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ife and Marvelous Adventures of 



THE SCOUT, 

TJ. W. BUEL, OF THE ST. LOUIS PRESS. 

iTED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. 



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Wild Bill. 



A inarvelously exciting book, full of daring adventures and wonderful 
escapes among the Indians and lawless white men of the Far West. 



CHICAGO: 
RELFORD, CLARKE .t CO., 

i88i. 





Class F59 4 

Book L_L_1_ 

GopightN" 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




Wild Bill. 



LIFE AND MARVELOUS ADVENTURES 



OB „ ^'''^ 



WILD BILL, 



THE SCOUT. 



BEING A TRUE AND EXACT HISTORY OF ALL THE 

SANGUINARY COMBATS AND HAIR-BREADTH 

ESCAPES OF THE MOST FAMOUS SCOUT 

AND SPY AMERICA EVER PRODUCED. 



BY 
J. W. BUEL, 

OF THE ST. LOUIS PRESS. 



ILLUSTRATED. 




o 



CHICAGO: 

BELFORD, CLARKE & CO. 
i88a 



, A' /, 



Copyrighted 1879, by W. S. BRYAN. 



CONTENTS. 



Peculiarities of Wild Bill's Nature 

Wild Bill's Early Life - - 

First Evidence of Pluck 

Desperate Fight at Rock Creek 

A Running Fight with Confederates 

Enters The Union Army as a Spy 

A Ride with Death . - - 

Captured and Condemned to Death 

A Fight with Three Bushwhackers 

Bowie Knife Duel with an Indian Chief 

Indian and Buffalo Speculation 

Bill's Duel at Springfield 

A Quadrangular Duel in Nebraska 

Wild Bill's Opinion of Yankees 

How Bill Killed Jack Strawhan 

Bill Mulvey's Last Row 

A Fight with Fifteen Soldiers 

A Death Fight with Texas Gamblers 

A Reward of $5,000 in Gold Offered for Bill's Heart 

Bill Thompson's Fatal Surprise . _ . 

Wild Bill makes Twenty Men Ask an Apology 

Bill's Fight with Phil Cole's Cousin 

Removes to Kansas City . . . , 

A Prize Fight in a Chicago Billiard Room 

Bill's Marriage to Mrs. Lake ... 

Makes his Debut on the Stage - - - 

Bill's Last Trip to the Black Hills - - - 

Assassination of Wild Bill - - - . 

Jack McCall Pays the Penalty - . . 

Wild Bill's Remains Exhumed and found to be Petrified 

Idiosyncraces of Bill — His Belief in Spirits - 

Bill's Wonderful Accuracy of Aim - - - 

Black Nell, the Wonderful Mare . _ , 

Conclusion — Does Bill Deserve a Monument? 



7AGE. 

5 

7 

9 

II 

19 

20 
22 
26 
28 
30 

33 

34 
39 
43 
45 
48 

49 

52 
55 
58 
60 
62 
64 
66 

67 

68 

69 
71 

79 
80 

83 
86 
88 
90 



PECULIARITIES OF WILD BILL'S NATURE. 



Wild Bill, as a frontier character of the daring, 
cunning and honorable class, stands alone, without a 
prototype ; his originality is as conspicuous as his 
remarkable escapades. He was desperate without 
being a desperado; a fighter without that disposition 
which invites danger or craves the excitement of an 
encounter. He killed many men, but in every in- 
stance it was either in self-defense or in the prosecu- 
tion of a duty which he deemed justifiable. Wild 
Bill was a necessary character in the Far West dur- 
ing the period which marked his career. He was 
essentially a civilizer, in the sense of a vigilance 
posse. The law and order class found in him an 
effective agent for the correction of the lawless ; it 
was fighting the desperate with one of their kind, 
and Bill had the cunning to remain on the side of 
society and to always flank his enemies. 

It would require a volume to moralize upon the 
deeds of this remarkable man as they deserve, for 
his desperate encounters find a parallel only in the 
atmospheric changes which abate an epidemic. 
When Bill drew his pistol there was always one less 
desperado to harass the law-abiding, and his pres- 
ence served to allay the hunger of cut-throats and 
I 



O INTRODUCTION. 

rapacious plunderers. As a fighter, he had no equal ; 
as a pistol shot, none could excel him ; as a scout in 
the service of his country, there were none more 
faithful, daring and serviceable ; with a disposition 
as gentle as a zephyr, but a determination stronger 
than the hurricane. Never a boaster ; always defer- 
ential to those who might differ from him in opinion ; 
a man of strong friendships and little enmity. Such 
were the marked characteristics of him whose mem- 
ory is deserving of perpetuation, and whose wonderful 
exploits it is the purpose of the writer to describe. 
The half cannot be told, because of the subject's 
secretive disposition, and extreme dislike to reciting 
his own adventures. That which is herewith given 
is absolutely true in every particular, without a sin- 
gle shading of fiction or extravagance, and may con- 
fidently be accepted as truthful history. 

J. W. BUEL. 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



WILD BILL'S EARLY LIFE. 

James B. Hickok, known to history as " Wild 
Bill," was born near Troy Grove, La Salle county, 
Illinois, May 27th, 1837. His father and mother 
were both natives of Vermont, in which state they 
were married. Shortly after marriage, they went 
to New York, and remained in that state until 
1834, when they removed to Illinois, and settled in 
Putnam county. Two years afterwards, however, 
they again removed to settle upon a more desirable 
homestead in La Salle county, where they resided 
until their death, the father dying in 1852 and the 
mother in 1878, at the advanced age of seventy-four 

years. 

The family consisted of six children, four boys 
and two girls, as follows : O. C. Hickok, born in 
New York in 1830, and now living in California; 
Lorenzo B., also born in New York in 1832 ; Horace 
D., born in Putnam county, Illinois, in 1834; James 
B., the subject of this sketch ; and Celinda D. and 
Lydia M., both born in La Salle county, the former 
in 1839 and the latter in 1841. Lorenzo and Horace 
are still living upon the old homestead. Celinda 
married a gentleman by the name of Dewey, and is 

7 



8 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

now living in Mendota, La Salle county. Lydia 
married a Mr. Barnes, and is living in Decatur 
county, Kansas. Thus it will be seen that all the 
children are still living, with the single exception of 
James (Wild Bill,) whose marvelous exploits it is the 
purpose of the writer to faithfully, but briefly, record 
in this pamphlet. 

The names and dates of birth of the several chil- 
dren are given in order to correct the prevalent idea 
that James was much older. His most intimate ac- 
quaintances informed the writer that he was born in 
1830; and the inscription on the stump which served 
as a head-board to his original grave, gave his age 
at the time of death at forty-eight years, as will be 
seen in a subsequent chapter descriptive of his 
murder. 

The advantages possessed by James for acquiring 
an education were very limited, in consequence of 
which he grew up with little knowledge. He learned 
to read, and this single acquirement he used almost 
exclusively in exploring fiction literature. Nothing 
afforded him so much pleasure as the perusal of such 
novels as "Claude Duval," "The Bold Ranger," 
" Dick Turpin," and that class of stories descriptive 
of adventures in an outre civilization. A result of 
this reading is found in his life. 

In 1856, when James was nineteen years of age, 
he left home for the west, Kansas being his proposed 
destination. The border troubles of that time, no 
doubt, influenced him to go to that (then) territory ; 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 9 

for, from the time that he was twelve years of age, 
he manifested an ardent love for adventure. He 
made the rifle and pistol his earliest companions, 
and when he left La Salle county he had the reputa- 
tion of being the best shot in that portion of the 
state. 

The first record we have of him after leaving Illi- 
nois was during his short stay at Independence, Mis- 
souri, at which place he gained some notoriety by 
boldly entering the midst of a dozen infuriated men 
and bidding them to disperse. This event, we be- 
lieve, has never before been mentioned in any of the 
many sketches written of him, and as it was his first 
act of daring, it is worthy of production here. Its 
truthfulness, however, we cannot vouch for,, not hav- 
ing received the details from an eye-witness. 



FIRST EVIDENCE OF PLUCK, 

In 1856, the year in which the occurrence is said 
to have taken place. Independence was but a post 
village, and was fairly upon the border. Many 
teamsters stopped there, en route to Kansas City 
with produce for shipment. There were two saloons 
in the place, and, naturally, much drunkenness and 
lawlessness. On the occasion referred to, a dozen 
teamsters had put up in town, and shortly afterwards 
visited one of the saloons, where they soon became 



to LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

quite demonstrative under the influence of the liquor 
they had drank. A fight was the consequence, in 
which the saloon-keeper, who had almost brained 
one of the party, had to flee for his life and take 
refuge in another house. The crowd had drawn 
their pistols and sworn vengeance, and finally sur- 
rounded the house in which the saloon-keeper had 
secreted himself, and determined to kill him. 
Hickok, although not present during the fight, heard 
the disturbance and was soon on the scene. Learn- 
ing that the saloon-keeper — who chanced to be a 
friend — was in imminent danger, with the display of 
the most astonishing recklessness he dashed into the 
crowd with his two pistols drawn, and offered to fight 
the entire party, or represent the object of their re- 
venge. This bold proposition served to stop the 
noise of their wild threats, but meeting with no re- 
sponse, Hickok commanded the crowd to disperse 
and forthwith leave the place, finishing the command 
with the following characteristic remark, " Or there 
will be more dead men around here than the town 
can bury." In thirty minutes every one of the 
blood-craving teamsters had left the place. 

This event popularized him greatly in the imme- 
diate section, and it was here he received the name 
which stuck to him throughout his life and by which 
his memory will always be best recalled — ** Wild 
Bill" — though why the name "Bill" was given in- 
stead of "Jim," his real name, it is difficult to under- 
stand. In our subsequent allusions to him we shall 
use this familiar title. 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. II 

Bill remained in Independence one month, but 
finding the place too near civiHzation, and meeting 
daily with crowds on the road to the gold discover- 
ies of California, he concluded to strike for the coast. 
In the latter part of the same year he attached him- 
self to a train as driver, and made the overland trip 
to California. He did not remain long in the golden 
state, however, for being most agreeably impressed 
with the wild scenery and picturesque solitude of the 
plains, skirted with bold mountains, and enlivened 
with abundant game, he retraced his journey and 
brought up in the valley near the then small village 
of Denver, and, in company with two others, he fol- 
lowed trapping and hunting for three years, occa- 
sionally going as far north as Hudson's Bay. 

In i860, Bill was placed in charge of the teams of 
the Overland Stage Company, — which ran between 
St. Joseph, Missouri, and Denver, over the old 
Platte route, — at Rock Creek, about fifty miles west 
of Topeka, Kansas. 



BILL'S DESPERATE FIGHT AT ROCK 
CREEK 

It was while occupying this position that the first 
and most desperate fight of his life occurred, and one 
which we may safely say is without a parallel. The 
particulars of this remarkable encounter have been 



12 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

given to the public several times, once by a writer 
in Harper s Monthly, who claims to have heard the 
story from Bill himself, but whether he reported Bill 
correctly or not, the account in Harper, like that 
which has appeared in other publications, has but the 
mere skeleton of truth in it, the body being of 
error. The author collected the facts and particulars 
of this fight from Capt. E. W. Kingsbury, at present 
chief of U. S. Storekeepers for the western district 
of Missouri, who was a passenger in the overland 
stagfe which arrived at Rock Creek within an hour 
after the fight occurred, and saw the bodies of the 
men Bill had killed, and heard the story fresh from 
Bill's own lips.. Capt. Kingsbury's version of the 
encounter is corroborated by Dr. Joshua Thorne, 
one of the most prominent physicians in Kansas 
City, who was Wild Bill's physician during his life, 
and at whose home Bill was a frequent and familiar 
visitor. Bill repeated the story to Dr. Thorne sev- 
eral times, just as he gave it to Capt. Kingsbury. 
Bill had very few confidants, but among that privi- 
leged class were the two gentlemen mentioned, who, 
by their permission, will be frequently referred to 
hereafter. After the appearance of Harper' s Monthly 
containing the sketch referred to, Bill was very angry 
and pronounced the writer of it a perverter of facts. 
The correct story of the " battle," as we may very 
properly call it, is as follows : The country for many 
miles around Rock Creek, including Marysville and 
Manhattan, had for several years been infested by a 



LITE OF WILD BUJ. 1 3 

desperate band of marauders headed by Jim and 
Jack McCandlas. They were horse thieves and 
murderers who overran the country and levied trib- 
ute from nearly every one they met. This murder- 
ous gang had killed more than a score of innocent 
men and women for the purpose of robbery, and yet 
their power was suck that no civil officer dared un- 
dertake their arresL 

In 1 86 1, the year in which the fight occurred, the 
^CcCandlas boys raised a company in that section 
for the Confederate service. They established their 
headquarters about thirteen miles west of Rock 
Creek, where they were collecting men and stolen 
horses. Early in the morning of the day in question, 
Jim McCandlas rode by Rock Creek station in com- 
pany with four of his men. McCandlas was leading 
an old man, known as Parson Shapley, by a lariat 
which was around the old man's neck. Coming up 
to Bill the party stopped, and McCandlas entered 
into a conversation, in which he tried to persuade 
Bill to enter the Confederate service and to turn over 
all the horses at the station to him. Bill, a stranger 
to the sensation of fear, told 3>IcCandlas to go to 
h — ^1 ; that if he did any fighting it would be on the 
side of the Union. McCandlas then told Bill if he 
didn't have the horses ready for deUvery by the time 
of his return, " that there would be a small murder 
at Rock Creek station, and the stage company would 
have to get another man." The party then rode off 

In this connection, in order to give the reader an 



14 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

idea of the manner in which Wild Bill received his 
would-be murderers, it is necessary to partially de- 
scribe Rock Creek station. The house in which Bill 
and his single partner, known as Doc. Mills, ate and 
slept, was a low-roofed log hut fronting the creek, 
with the rear part built against the hill. It had a 
front door, and a very small window in the side, near 
the rear. The single room was divided by an old 
blanket hung from the roof, behind which was a table 
and a bed made after the frontier style. This rude 
structure was one of the many sleeping places called 
"dugouts," so often seen in the wild West even at 
this day. The stables, also very rude but strongly 
made, adjoined the " dugout " on the east side. The 
arms in the house consisted of two revolvers, one 
shot-gun, a large bore rifle, which Bill called a Mis- 
sissippi yager, and two large bowie knives. 

After dinner, Doc. Mills took the shot-gun and 
one of the revolvers — which he usually carried — and 
went down the creek a short distance to shoot some 
quail. During his absence, and about four o'clock 
in the evening, Wild Bill saw the tvo McCandlas 
.boys, accompanied by eight others, riding up the 
road towards him. Bill at once withdrew into the 
dugout and prepared to defend the place. Coming 
around in front of the dugout, Jim McCandlas hal- 
looed to Bill, telling him to come out and deliver 
the horses. To this Bill returned an insulting reply. 
The mounted party then left their horses and began 
an onslaught on the door with a log which they used 




«iyjv w 






15 



l6 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

as a battering ram. Bill stood behind the old 
blanket, rifle in hand, and revolver and knife lying 
on the table. It required but a few strokes to break 
the door, and the crowd of cut-throats, headed by 
Jim McCandlas, rushed in. The old yager was 
discharged, and the leader fell with a hole in his 
heart as large as a silver half-dollar. Bill seized his 
revolver and shot three more before any of them had 
reached him. The most terrible scene then followed. 
Every man was like a wounded lion ; the six others 
jumped at Bill like harpies that had tasted blood. 
He was borne down upon the table, but his right 
hand was cutting right and left ; the blood was gush- 
ing from his forehead, where he had been struck 
with a rifle, which almost blinded him; he cut two 
others down, and Jack McCandlas leaped upon him 
with an immense dirk drawn to cut Bill's throat. By 
a rare stroke of luck, Bill placed the muzzle of his 
pistol over McCandlas' heart and fired. The knife 
in McCandlas' hand dropped harmlessly upon Bill, 
and the man jumped into the air and fell dead, roll- 
'ing over Bill and falling off the table to the floor- 
During this time the others, who had life in them, 
were firing their pistols at Bill whenever opportunity 
presented, but their numbers gave him the advan- 
tage. There was but little light in the room, and it 
was only the ones next to Bill that could do him any 
injury, the others being fearful of killing their own 
party. Six of the number had now been killed and 
two others badly wounded. They began to retreat, 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 17 

and though Bill was apparently bleeding at every 
pore, he now pressed the fighting. The two who re- 
mained unharmed reached their horses, and, leaping 
into the saddle, fled as though they were being pur- 
sued by one who was shielded with the panoply of 
invulnerabihty. The two wounded ran down the 
hill, but one was cut. so badly that he fell beside the 
root of a large tree, and was unable to go further. 
At this juncture Doc. Mills came back, and, when 
half-way up the hill, he was met by Bill, who 
grabbed the loaded shot-gun, and, placing the muz- 
zle to the head of the wounded man, blew his brains 
out. The other one, whose name was Jolly, man- 
aged to elude Bill and reach Manhattan, where, in a 
few days thereafter, he died, but not until he had 
told the story of the fight substantially as here re- 
lated. 

After the excitement of the terrific combat was 
over. Bill fainted from loss of blood, and was carried 
into the dugout by his partner, Doc. Mills. The 
sight on the inside was now terrible. Six men lay 
dead on the floor. Jim McCandlas' body was ly- 
ing across the threshold of the door, almost half 
submerged in his blood. Hideous gashes and large 
bullet-holes had opened the reservoir of blood which 
formed in large pools, after making small creeks 
over the floor. The countenances of the dead men 
were most revolting. Not a groan escaped the lips 
of any of the victims after Doc. Mills entered with 
Bill's half-Hfeless body, which he lay tenderly on the 

I 



1 8 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

rude bed ; every one had been killed outright. 
Those shot evidenced Bill's coolness and deliberate 
aim throughout the terrible ordeal ; each was shot 
either in the heart or head, and the terrible dagger 
had been thrust with equal precision to the wells of 
the heart. 

In less than one hour after the fight was over, the 
stage from Denver arrived, full of passengers, some 
of whom were thus introduced for the first time to 
.^le desperation of Western life. Wild Bill rallied 
sufficiently to tell the story of his dreadful encoun- 
ter with ten of the most desperate men that ever 
cut a man's throat or robbed a stable. Every atten- 
tion that could be shown was given Bill. He was 
too ^^dV cut and shot to admit of removal, but a 
sui . ^a was sent for from Manhattan, and old Mrs. 
Watkins, who lived within five miles of the station, 
came down ' s soon as she heard the news, and vol- 
unter^ed her services to nurse him. Bill's wounds 
consisted of a fracture of the skull, three gashes on 
the breast, and a cut to the bone on his left forearm. 
There were seven balls in his legs and body, and 
there was scarcely a place on his face, limbs or body 
that was not black from bruises he had received. It 
would seem impossible that a man could survive such 
injuries, but, nevertheless, in six months Bill was out 
again, and in less than one year he was as sound 
physically as ever. 

It is not necessary to say that the McCandlas 
boys never entered the Confederate army, and the 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. I9 

manner in which they left the service they had 
been in so long was cause for thanks. The people 
of that section worshiped Bill as no other man. He 
had civihzed the neighborhood. 



A RUNNING FIGHT WITH CONFEDERATES. 

After recovery from his wounds, Wild Bill lejf"' 
Rock Creek Station and went to Leavenworth, where 
shortly after his arrival, he was appointed wagon 
master of a train Gen. Jno. C. Fremont had ordered 
to Sedalia, Missouri. On the third day out and as 
they were about going into camp for the nighjt, the 
train was attacked by a company of Confedr tes 
and several of the wagons burned and the muleb run 
off. Bill could offer iittle resistance, zs he had less 
than a dozen men with him, all of whom surrenjjered 
at the beginning of the attack. Nevertheless,' being 
mounted on an excellent horse, he gave battle single 
handed, and when called upon to surrender, his reply 
was : " Come and take me." Knowing that Col. 
Jameson was at Kansas City, he started for that 
place, pursued by more than fifty of the Confeder- 
ates, who fired their pistols at him until they wsre 
distanced, but he escaped without a scratch ; not so 
his pursuers, for four of the more advanced ones fell 
victims to his unerring aim. 

Upon his arrival in Kansas City Bill at once 



20 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

reported to Col. Jameson, who immediately dis- 
patched two companies of his command to the scene 
of the first attack, and on the following day suc- 
ceeded in recapturing most of the stock and repair- 
ing the damage to the wagons, so that the train was 
able to proceed to Sedalia. His valor in resisting 
the Confederates was acknowledged by his appoint- 
ment as Brigade Wagon Master with Gen. Curtis' 
army, and, while serving in this capacity, he engaged 
in the battle of Pea Ridge, where he performed 
most valuable service as a sharp-shooter, killing no 
less than thirty-five men, it is stated, from a single 
station. 



ENTERS THE UNION ARMY AS A SPY. 

After Bill's complete recovery he returned to the 
states and volunteered his services to Gen. Curtis, 
who had command of the army in Missouri, as a 
scout and spy. He was enrolled in the early part 
of 1863, and at once sent upon a dangerous mission. 
Gen. Price was preparing to enter Missouri, and it 
became very necessary for Gen. Curtis to have relia- 
ble information of the intentions of the Confederate 
General. Bill went to Kansas City, where he was 
furnished ahorse, and allowed to exercise his judg- 
ment in reaching the enemy's lines. Accordingly, 
he rode through Kansas and the Indian Territory in 
order to reach Arkansas from the south. He assumed 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 21 

the name of Bill Barnes, and enlisted in a regiment 
of mounted rangers at a small town south of Little 
Rock. The regiment was attached to Price's com- 
mand, and shortly afterwards he was made one of 
Price's orderlies. This gave him all the facilities de- 
sired to obtain information, which he managed, in 
many ways, to communicate to Gen. Curtis. In 1864 
Price began his retreat from Missouri and made his 
last stand by forming a junction with Shelby on 
Sugar creek, about twenty miles below Newtonia, 
in McDonald county. Gen. Curtis had, by forced 
marches, reached the creek at nearly the same time, 
and both forces were preparing for battle. It was 
now time for Bill to leave the Confederates, but no 
opportunity was presented. A river, or creek, lay be- 
tween the two armies, and any effort to cross would 
certainly be detected. 

On the 23d of October, and the day Bill formed 
the intention of making a bold effort to cross the 
lines, Gen. Price directed him to carry orders to 
Gen. Shelby instructing him where and when to make 
the attack on Curtis, and how to conduct the move- 
ment. This instruction made matters worse for Bill, 
and he determined to take the chances of life or 
death in evading the Confederate army and placing 
the orders in Gen. Curtis' hands. He rode furiously 
back and lost no time in challenging a bragadocio 
sergeant to ride with him, for a wager, nearest the 
enemy's hnes. The sergeant tried to back out, but 
the boys began to hoot him so that their respec- 



22 LIFE OF WILL) BILL. 

tive horses were wagered as to who could cross the 
open space and ride down to the creek. The two 
started off on a dash and soon the bullets from the 
Union forces were whistling around them. Bill kept 
as far from his partner as possible, and made his horse 
rear and plunge in order to attract the attention of 
the Union forces. They rode down to the creek to- 
gether, when the Union men discovered Bill and 
shouted to him. This aroused the suspicion of the 
sargeant, who attempted to draw his pistol, but Bill's 
eye was on him, and in a flash a ball went crashing 
through his brain. Bill grabbed the bit of the dead 
sergeant's horse and plunged into the stream, which 
at the time was considerably swollen. The Confed- 
erates now saw what was up, and although the Un- 
ion forces commenced a brisk fire, the Confederates 
seemed determined to kill Bill, the bullets faUing 
around him like hail ; but he managed to reach the 
opposite shore with his own and the dead sergeant's 
horse without receiving any injury. Bill was taken 
into Gen. Curtis' tent and afterwards publicly thanked 
for his daring and valuable services. 



A RIDE WITH DEATH. 

Gen. Curtis continued pushing southward, and it 
again became necessary for Bill to enter the enemy's 
lines. There were three things particularly in Bill's 



24 LIFE OV 7JLD BILL. 

favor as a scout and sp/. First of all, he was daring 
beyond example ; secori'J, he was an unerring shot, 
and third, he could chanr^o his appearance so radi- 
cally as to dely detection ; add to this a native 
cunning and adaptabiiityy andhis success and escapes 
are not so lemarkable. 

The second time he v/as sent into the lines he was 
accompanied h/ Nat Tuckett, one of the dearest 
friends Bill ever hcc. They took a circuitous route 
like the one adopted by Bill in reaching Price's 
army, and attached themselves to Kirby Smith at 
Austin, Texas, and soon afterwards moved north 
with Smith's army into Arkansas. Curtis* forces 
were not very strong, and while deploying down the 
Arkansas river they began to feel the strength of 
the Confederates. At length the main body of both 
armies came in view and stretched their lines of bat- 
tle opposite each other about one thousand yards 
apart. A battery of ten-pounders was stationed on 
a small knoll to the left, which was kept playing on 
the Confederates, but evidently with little effect, for 
they did not change positions and appeared willing 
that the Union forces should expend their fire, for 
they did not return it except occasionally, appar- 
ently to let the Union forces know they were waiting 
for the attack. This condition of affairs continued 
for more than an hour, when suddenly two horsemen 
were seen to leave the ranks of the Confederates and 
ride furiously towards the Union lines. They had 
not gone a hundred yards before a detachment of 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 2$ 

cavalry started in pursuit and a rapid fire was com- 
menced at the two riders. A company of Union 
men was deployed to intercept the pursuers, as it 
was evident that the two were trying to effect their 
escape. On they came, the pursued and pursuers, 
until the two reached a ditch about twenty feet widt 
and ten feet deep. All but two of the pursuers had 
been distanced, and when the pursued came to the 
ditch one of them cleared it with a bound, but the 
other fell dead under his horse from a pistol shot fired 
by the two advanced pursuers. The Union forces 
could then plainly see that the two trying to escape 
were Wild Bill and Nat. Tuckett. When his partner 
fell. Bill turned in his saddle and fired two quick 
shots, and both the advanced pursuers fell dead and 
their horses galloped riderless into the Union lines. 

This ride has been pronounced by those familiar 
with the facts — hundreds of whom are yet living — as 
one of the most daring feats ever accomplished, and 
Bill's escape from death one of the most remarkable 
of his many strokes of good fortune. The only mo- 
tive he had for adopting so rash a measure was his 
dare-devil nature, which possibly became intensified 
by one or more drinks. 

In accomplishing this perilous feat. Bill rode a 
black mare, to which he gave the name of Black 
Nell, and which he took great pains to train, with 
what success will be mentioned hereafter. 



26 LIFE OF WILD BILL, 



CAPTURED AND CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 

Directly after performing this remarkable dare- 
devil deed "Wild Bill" again concluded to re-enter 
Price's lines, although to return into the camp where 
he must now be familiarly known, was like inviting 
death. Some men are never so happy as when dar- 
ing fate, and to approach near the dreadful summon- 
er often becomes a fascinating adventure. It was 
so with Bill, for the greater the risks to be encoun- 
tered, the greater his enjoyment. He loved danger, 
not as the soldier who would gather fame from the 
mouths of roaring cannons, but as one who extracts 
some pleasant intoxicant from the result. For the 
fourth time Bill disguised himself and again made a 
detour so as to re-enter General Price's lines from the 
South. He met the fleeing army not many miles 
from Little Rock, and, riding a mule, with the make- 
up of an Arkansas farmer, he offered himself as a re- 
cruit. It was but a short time before he was discovered^ 
and upon being reported he was arrested, and on the 
following day tried by court-martial. The trial lasted 
less than an hour, as he was so well known in con- 
nection with the escapades already narrated, and 
upon conviction he was sentenced to be shot on the 
succeeding day. 

Fortune always favors the desperately brave, and 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 2J 

we now have to record another extraordinary visita- 
tion of good luck to Bill. Price's army had been flee- 
ing more than a week before the victorious Curtis, 
whose troops outnumbered those of Price two to 
one. The pursuit had been continued until both 
armies were very much fatigued, and Price's was so 
nearly exhausted that he was compelled to go into 
camp on a small creek twenty-five miles south of 
Little Rock. Wild Bill's arms and legs were pinioned 
with thongs and he was confined in a one-room log- 
house with a single guard to prevent his escape. 
The house had but one door and one window, the lat- 
ter being nearly two feet square and closed by a door 
made of clap-boards. Being bound hand and foot 
there was no avenue of escape, apparently, and Bill 
was forced to take a melancholy view of his situa- 
tion. Night coming on, and the guard being nearly 
worn out, dozed off from time to time, feeling that his 
prisoner was perfectly secure. While meditating 
upon the execution announced to take place on the 
morrow, in which he was to be the chief character 
his eyes caught sight of the handle of an old case- 
knife which was sticking in an auger hole in one of 
the house logs. Changing his seat without arous- 
ing any suspicion from the guard. Bill managed to 
secure the rusty knife, and after long effort succeeded 
in cutting the cords which bound his wrists together. 
The dozing guard permitted him also to cut the cords 
on his feet, and the moment he was free Bill rushed 
on the guard like a tiger springing upon its prey and 



28 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

seizing him by the throat ripped open his abdomen 
in an instant. The guard fell dead from the knife 
thrusts without being able to give any alarm, and, 
seizing the musket and taking the guard's coat, which 
he hastily put on, Bill fled out into the darkness and 
made good his escape. 

Bill traveled nearly two days before reaching the 
Union lines, and upon his return he appeared before 
General Curtis, to whom he related his wonderful es- 
cape from death, and declined to act any longer as a 
spy in Price's army, as his return again would, un- 
doubtedly, have resulted in his death. 



A FIGHT WITH THREE BUSHWHACKERS. 

Being a scout. Bill was not permanently attached 
to Gen. Curtis' army, but had a wide latitude in 
which to range ; but he was fighting Confederates 
nearly all the time, sometimes in company with a 
small force and at other times single-handed. There 
are very few acquainted with the many phases the 
war assumed who do not remember the terrorism 
which existed in Southern Missouri from 1864 until 
the close of the rebellion. The country was infested 
with, bushwhackers, whose single purpose was the 
murder of defenseless persons and running off valu- 
able stock. Their depredations were terrible, and 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. ^9 

these marauding bands were composed of the rene- 
gades of both armies, which it was difficult for either 
side to punish. Their haunts were chiefly among 
the pineries and other places difficult to penetrate 
with a company of men so as to present an effective 
front. 

Wild Bill, usually bent on some daring purpose, 
concluded to enter the pineries between RoUa and 
Springfield on a tour of discovery. He neglected to 
acquaint any one with his purpose, and left RoUa by 
night. After an absence of three days he returned 
to RoUa, leading three horses. Gen. Daviess, who 
was in command of the post, sent for Bill and asked 
him how he came in possession of the horses. The 
tone in which the General addressed the inquiry sug- 
gested to Bill the idea that the General entertained 
the suspicion that the horses were stolen. With a 
stolid indifference which characterized the man, Bill 
replied : " It's none of your d — d business." By 
Gen. Daviess' orders, Bill was placed in the guard- 
house, but he had so many fast friends, who felt sat- 
isfied that he came by the horses honorably, that on 
the night following, Bill appeared on the streets 
as usual. The General was o.utwitted, and, approach- 
ing Bill courteously, he received an explanation as 
follows : On the second day after Bill left Rolla, 
he met three bushwhackers in a lonely road, who 
commanded him to dismount. To this Bill returned 
the reply, " It shall be a fair fight," and commenced 
firing. His first three shots killed his men. All of 



30 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

them fired at him, but the only effect was to split 
his saddle bow. Bill had some difficulty in catching 
the three horses, but he succeeded and brought them 
in. On the second day after getting into Rolla, Bill 
conducted a detail of six men to the spot where the 
fight occurred, and found the bodies of the three 
bushwhackers. The horses were turned over to 
Gen. Daviess. 



BILL'S BOWIE-KNIFE DUEL WITH AN IN- 
DIAN CHIEF. 

During the period that Bill was scouting for Gen. 
Curtis, he fought a duel to the death with an Indian 
chief, the particulars of which are partially forgot- 
ten, and the facts, therefore, can only be imperfectly 
recited. The details, so far as Dr. Thorne can re- 
member them, are as follows : It will be remembered 
that during the civil war several tribes of Indians 
were employed, chiefly for foraging purposes, by 
both Federals and Confederates, the largest force 
being commanded by Gen. Jim Lane. Gen. Curtis 
had received information through a friendly tribe of 
Sioux Indians, in Kansas, that a hostile camp of 
Choctaws had been pitched on the Kaw river, a few 
miles west of Lawrence. The chief of the Sioux, 
Man-to-yu-kee, (Conquering Bear,) appeared before 
Gen. Curtis at Leavenworth and offered to accom- 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 3 1 

j^any any white man he might choose to send, as a 
spy into the enemy's camp. Gen. Curtis at once se- 
lected Wild Bill for the dangerous mission. Upon 
setting out on the journey, Bill had his suspicions 
aroused by the anxiety of the chief, and frankly 
told the Indian that if he betrayed him death would 
be the consequence. 

The two proceeded cautiously, Bill's eyes being 
almost constantly on the chief, lest the treachery he 
suspicioned would lead him into a fatal trap. His 
fears were realized when the two had got within a 
short distance of the hostile camp, for the chief had 
misled him and then suddenly disappeared. Bill 
managed, with his usual good fortune, to escape the 
Choctaws after getting inside the picket lines, al- 
though several times they came within a few feet of 
his hiding places. He made his way back to Leavei^.- 
worth, where, after reporting the result of his trip, 1 e 
directed his steps toward the camp of the Sioux. 

Bill could never discover the motive which prompt- 
ed the chief to thus betray him, but he was deter- 
mined to be revenged. He was personally ac- 
quainted with many of the Sioux, and one of the 
most trusted ones he employed to lure the chief to 
a lone spot where he could take his revenge. The 
stratagem succeeded, and, ere the chief was aware, 
he was brought face to face with Bill in a seques- 
tered spot thirty miles west of Kansas City. Bill 
told the chief that he intended to kill him for his 
treachery, and thereupon threw the Indian a pistol, 



^^ LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

telling him to defend himself. The chief knew Bill 
to be a dead shot, and objected to fighting a duel 
with pistols, but, being compelled to fight, he agreed 
to meet Bill in a hand-to-hand encounter with bowie- 
knives. Each carried such a knife, and therefore no 
further prehminaries were necessary. The bright, 
long, keen blades were unsheathed, and each holding 
a knife aloft in his right hand advanced to meet the 
other. The Indian fought shy and tried to back to 
cover, but Bill threatened to shoot him if he left a 
circle which he then made. Again the two came to- 
gether, their hands clenched, at the center of the cir- 
cle, and, as the chief was much the stronger, he held 
Bill's striking hand for nearly half an hour, their 
knives being locked together. A favorable oppor- 
tunity being presented. Bill partly tripped the 
chief, and the hold was loosened. For a third time 
they came together, but this time the result was 
fearful. Bill slashed at the Indian's heart, but the 
blow lost its full effect by striking the buckskin 
vest and a buckle on the suspender which the 
chief chanced to wear. But the buckle was cleft in 
twain, and the Indian's left side was cut open to the 
ribs. But Bill had not escaped, for the Indian, also 
aiming at Bill's heart, struck his arm near the shoul- 
der and stripped the flesh down the bone two inches. 
The combatants presented a terrible spectacle as 
they came together a fourth time. The blood was 
streaming from each and making the ground fairly 
muddy over which they fought. The chief was the 
first to strike next, but the blow was caught on the 
edge of Bill's knife, and, with a lightning parry and 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 33 

thrust, Bill cut the Indian's throat, almost severing 
the head from the body. 

The wound Bill received caused him great annoy- 
ance, for after partially healing, a fistula formed, 
which Dr. Thorne treated foj- several months before 
he recovered the use of his arm. This fight was 
one of the most terrible ever man engaged in, and 
nothing could evidence a man's pluck more con- 
clusively than this did Bill's. 



INDIAN AND BUFFALO SPECULATION. 

Shortly after the close of the great civil war 
Wild Bill engaged in a novel enterprise, the result of 
which was a complete financial failure, though it 
furnished rare amusement for a great many wealthy 
people. He secured six fine, full-grown buffalos, 
and with four Commanche Indians, he made a trip to 
Niagara Falls, for the purpose of treating the visitors 
of that fashionable and famous resort to a genuine 
buffalo chase. The entertainment was duly adver- 
tised and a very large number of persons was 
attracted to witness real Indians, bespangled with 
beads, paint and feathers, in pursuit of a genuine 
herd of wild buffalos. The chase occurred on the 
Canada shore, and created the greatest excitement; 
hundreds of gentlemen engaging in the pursuit, 
mounted in excellent style, and rendering efficient 
aid at the close in securing the buffalos, unharmed, 
and returning them to pens previously provided. 

3 



34 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

Niagara sight-seers, perhaps, never witnessed a more 
interesting and exciting entertainment, but they 
were not willing to pay properly for the amusement. 
No admission fee could be charged, as the chase 
could not be conducted within an enclosure, and Bill 
had to depend upon voluntary contributions, which 
were so meagre as to leave him a heavy loser. He 
was compelled to sell his buffalos and pilot his 
Commanche braves back to their reservation. 

An incident occurred at the close of the chase 
worthy of record in this connection. Among the 
many spectators was a party of English snobs, one 
of whom seeing Bill dressed in buckskin breeches 
and generally frontier style, asked him if he were an 
Indian or white man. The question was addressed 
in a cockney way peculiar to English haute tons^ and 
gave such offense that Bill replied: ** This is the 
kind of a man I am," at the same time striking the 
impertinent fellow a blow in the face which sent him 
sprawling into the street. 



BILL'S DUEL AT SPRINGFIELD. 

In the latter part of 1865, Wild Bill went to 
Springfield, Missouri, where he remained some time. 
It was while at this place that he fought a duel with 
Dave Tutt in the public square, and, as usual, killed 
his man, and came out of the encounter scathless 
The particulars of this affair are as follows : Spring- 
field became a meeting place, after the war, of Con- 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 35 

federates and Union men. Both sides recruited 
their forces from this section, and though the war 
had ended, many of the animosities then engen- 
dered still remained. Another pecuHarity of the 
place consisted in the excess of border ruffianism, 
which made the town notorious. Murders had been 
so frequent in that section that the value of a life 
could scarcely be computed for its smallness 
Among the rowdies was one Dave Tutt, a man ol 
terrible passion, strong revenge, and one withal who 
had his private graveyard. He and Bill had met be- 
fore ; in fact, had shared the smiles of the same wo- 
man, a few years previous ; but Bill had won " in a 
square court," and Dave was anxious to meet Bill 
with pistols to settle the point finally. Some months 
passed while the two were in Springfield before any 
opportunity was presented for Dave to introduce a 
row, and when it came it was of Dave's own manu- 
facture. It is claimed that Bill killed a particular 
friend of Dave's some years before, but of the truth 
of this we have no proof. One of the strong points 
of difference between the men consisted in the fact 
that Bill had been a Union scout and spy, and Dave 
had performed a similar duty for the Confederates. 

Springfield was a great place for gamblers, and Bill 
and Dave belonged to the profession. One night, 
the two met in a saloon on the north side of the 
square, and Dave proposed a game with Bill, which, 
not being agreeable, Dave offered to stake a friend 
to play Bill. Thus the game was started. When 



J6 



LIFE OP WILD BILL. 



Bill sat down to the game he drew out his heavy 
gold watch and laid it on the table, remarking that 
he intended to quit the game promptly at 12 o'clock. 
After nearly two hours playing he had won two 
hundred dollars, the greater part of which had come 
from Dave as a loan to his friend. Having broke the 
friend and Dave also, the latter remarked, " Bill, 
you've got money now, so pay me that forty dollars 
you've been owing me so long." 

"All right," replied Bill, ** there's your money," 
and thereupon passed the forty dollars to Dave. 

** Now," remarked Dave, further, " I want that 
thirty-five dollars I won off you Friday night." 

Bill's reply was very courteous: "Beg your par- 
don, Dave, it was only twenty-five dollars ; I put the 
amount down in my memorandum-book at the 
time." 

Receiving this mild reply, Dave reached across 
the table and took Bill's watch, with the remark, 
" You'll never get this watch until you pay me that 
thirty-five dollars." 

This threw Bill into a violent passion, although he 
restrained himself. Rising from his chair and look- 
ing piercingly into Dave's eyes, he said ; " I am 
anxious to avoid a row in this gentleman's house. 
You had better put that watch back on the table." 

Dave returned an ugly look, and walked out of the 
room with the watch. 

It was the only time, perhaps, in Bill's life, that he 
permitted himself to be thus bullied. Everyone who 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. ' 3/ 

knew him thought he had lost his pluck. It was in- 
deed a seven days' wonder with the people. 

Dave kept the watch two days, during which time 
Bill remained in his room closely, revolving in his 
mind whether he should add another to his already 
long list of victims, or stop there and begin a life 
which flows in a more peaceful current. But he 
was not permitted to think and resolve without the 
advice of his friends. Almost every hour one or 
more of them would come to him with a new story 
about Dave's boasts and intentions. 

On the morning of the third day after the row, 
Dave sent word to Bill that he intended " to 
carry the watch across the square at noon, and to 
call the hour from Wild Bill's watch." Bill sent back 
the following reply : " Dave Tutt will not carry my 
watch across the square to-day unless dead men can 
walk." 

This reply satisfied everybody that there was go- 
ing to be a death fight. Accordingly, shortly before 
noon, an immense crowd had assembled on the public 
square to see the duel. 

At five minutes to twelve Wild Bill made his ap- 
pearance on one side of the square opposite the 
crowd, where he could command a view of Tutt and 
his many friends, nearly all of whom were standing 
with their revolvers in their hands. 

Just before twelve Dave stepped out from the 
crowd and started across the square. When he had 
proceeded a few steps and placed himself opposite to 




3^ 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 39 

Bill, he drew his pistol ; there was a report as of a 
single discharge, and Dave Tutt fell dead with a bul- 
let through his heart. The moment Bill discharged 
his pistol — both pistols having been fired at the same 
instant — without taking note of the result of his shot, 
he turned on the crowd with his pistol leveled, and 
asked if they were satisfied ; twenty or more blanched 
faces said they were, and pronounced the fight a 
square one. Bill expected to have to kill more than 
one man that day, but none of Dave's friends con- 
sidered it policy to appeal the result. 

Bill was arrested, but at the preliminary examina- 
tion he was discharged on the ground of self-de- 
fense. The verdict may not have been in accordance 
with the well defined principles of criminal jurispru- 
dence, but it was sufficient, for all who know the cir- 
cumstances believe that Tutt got his deserts. 



A QUADRANGULAR DUEL IN NEBRASKA. 

Bill remained in Springfield several months after 
killing Tutt, and until he was engaged, in 1866, to 
guide the Peace Commission, which visited the many 
tribes of Indians that year. Henry M. Stanley, the 
African explorer, accompanied the commission as 
correspondent of the New York Herald, and wrote 
some amusing sketches of Bill during the trip, but 
none of a nature which would make them appropri- 



40 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

ate in the history of his escapades. They related 
chiefly to his feats of markmanship, knowledge of 
Indian cunning, and droll humor. 

Upon the return of the Peace Commission, Bill 
made a trip into the eastern part of Nebraska, and 
in the spring of 1867, fought a remarkable duel in 
Jefferson county, with four men as his antagonists. 
The particulars of this fight were obtained from a 
gentleman now living in St. Louis, who, at the time, 
lived within a few miles of where the fight occurred, 
and heard the details from eye-witnesses. 

The origin of the difficulty was in bad whisky 
and ruffian nature. Bill went into a saloon — which 
was well filled with cattle drivers, who were half 
drunk and anxious for a fight — and called for a drink 
without inviting any one to join him. While raising 
the glass to his mouth one of the ruffians gave him 
a push in the back which caused him to drop the 
glass. Without saying a word. Bill turned and struck 
the rowdy a desperate blow, felling him outside the 
door. Four of the rowdy's friends jumped up from 
their chairs and drew their pistols. Bill appreciated 
V.is situation at once, and with wonderful coolness, 
said : " Gentlemen, let us have some respect for the 
proprietor. You are anxious for a fight, and I will 
accommodate you if you will consent to step out- 
side. I will fight all four of you at fifteen paces with 
pistols." There was a general consent, and the crowd 
filed out of the saloon. The distance was stepped 
off, and the four men stood five feet apart, facing 




41 



^2 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

Bill. The saloon-keeper was to give the woi \ 
*' fire," and the arrangements were conducted 
in as fair a manner as four men can fight one 
Bill stood as calmly as though he were in church 
Not a flush nor tremor. All parties were to allow 
their pistols to remain in their belts until the word 
" fire " was given, when each was then to draw 
and fire at will, and as often as circumstances 
permitted. The saloon-keeper asked if all were 
ready, and receiving an affirmative reply, began to 
count slowly, pausing at least ten seconds between 
each count: "one, two, three — fire !" Bill had fired 
almost before the call had died from the saloon- 
keeper's lips. He killed the man on the left, but a 
shot also struck Bill in the right shoulder, and his 
right arm fell helpless. 

In another instant he had transferred his pistol to 
his left hand, and three more successive shots drop- 
ped his antagonists. Three of the men were shot in 
the head and instantly killed. The other was shot 
in the right cheek, the ball carrying away a large 
portion of the cheek bone. He afterwards recovered, 
and may be living yet. The names of the four were : 
Jack Harkness, the one who recovered; Jim Slater, 
Frank Dowder and Seth Beeber. 

Bill was lionized by the others in the crowd in a 
moment after the fight; his wound was carefully 
bandaged and his wants administered to ; but he 
considered it safer to quit the county at once, and 
returned to Kansas, going direct to Hays City, ivhere 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 43 

he remained until he recovered the use of his arm, 
none of the bones having been broken, and in the 
latter part of the same year he was made city mar- 
shal, as he was the only one capable of dealing with 
the lawless class which had often overrun the town 
and set law and decency at defiance. 



WILD BILL'S OPINION OF YANKEES. 

In 1868, Wild Bill was engaged to guide a party of 
thirty pleasure-seekers, headed by Hon. Henry Wil- 
son, deceased ex-Vice-President, through some of the 
Western territories. Mrs. Wilson, wife of the Vice- 
President, was among the party, and being of a most 
vivacious and entertaining disposition, added greatly 
to the enjoyment of the trip. Wild Bill's introduc- 
tion to her resulted in a pleasing episode at the con- 
clusion of the trip. She requested Bill to carefully 
scrutinize the party, and then give her his impartial 
opinion of Yankees. Bill replied that it was not cus- 
tomary for him to form rash conclusions, J^ut if it 
were her wish he would deliver his opinion upon 
their return. 

The thirty days roaming through the canyons and 
over the mountains furnished a most enjoyable diver- 
sion to the entire party. There was scarcely a day 
passed but that Bill gave them samples of his unerr- 
ing aim, killing enough game with his pistol to pro- 



44 LIFE OF WILD BILU 

Vision the company. The ladies, who composed 
nearly one-half the party, never tired of praising 
him, listening to his stories of border life, and won- 
dering at his marvelous escapes. Bill naturally felt 
elated, and could not refrain from evincing his very 
deep interest in the pretty girls from the states. The 
gentlemen exhibited equal interest in the exploits of 
Bill, and gave him full credit for his performances. 
There was one thing about the party which Bill 
could not comprehend, viz. : the tight-legged pants 
which they wore — which at that time were the pre- 
vailing fashion in the East — and gave to the wearer 
the appearance of skeleton legs, wrapped with 
checked bandages, or a grasshopper dressed in an 
overcoat. 

Upon the return of the party, Mrs. Wilson, in bid- 
ding Bill good-bye, asked for a fulfillment of his prom- 
ise. He rather reluctantly responded, " Well, mad- 
am, I always like to keep my promise, but in this 
instance I should like to be excused." But no ex- 
cuse would answer; his disinclination only excited a 
more anxious interest in Mrs. Wilson to obtain his 
opinion. 

Being pressingly importuned. Bill at length gave 
his opinion as follows : " If you Yankee women 
have as small legs as the sample of Yankee men we 
have here, then I have a d — d poor opinion of the 
tribe." 

The frankness with which Bill spoke, no less than 
his remarks, threw the entire party into disorder. 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 45 

The young ladies hid their faces, and the men gen- 
erally exhibited their umbrage, but Mr. and Mrs. 
Wilson were fairly convulsed with laughter. The 
sting was taken out of Bill's opinion by Mrs. Wilson 
exclaiming, "Well, Mr. Hickok, that is just my sen- 
timent." I 



HOW BILL KILLED JACK STRAWHAN. 

After Bill's return from the trip with the Wilson 
company of wealthy "Yankees," he resumed his 
duties as city marshal of Hays City. It would be 
difficult for any one not familiar with the terrorism of 
border life to form an approximate estimate of the 
condition of society in Hays City when Bill became 
the custodian of its peace. Saloons and gambling 
hells were the most flourishing branches of business, 
and never closed their doors. The Sabbath was ig- 
nored, and the revelry of ruffians continued day and 
night. The population, it is true, was not a large 
one, but it was an exceedingly vicious and lively 
one. There were, of course, many good citizens, 
but, to use a border expression, "they never aired 
themselves," yet it was through their instrumentality 
that Bill became marshal. Among the most violent 
and dangerous of the rowdy element in Hays City 
was Jack Strawhan, a large, double-fisted bully who 
boasted that he could clean out the town, and who 
had hjs record well made by killing several men. 



46 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

'Some months previous to the occurrence about to 
be related, Strawhan had visited Ellsworth, and after 
getting fighting drunk, he and his gang undertook 
to " clean out the place," as they expressed it. 
Capt. Kingsbury, the gentleman before referred to, 
was sheriff of Ellsworth county at the time, and be- 
ing a man of equally desperate pluck, he called his 
deputy, Whitney, and Wild Bill, who was also in 
Ellsworth on that day, to his assistance, and after a 
slight skirmish arrested the gang. Strawhan was so 
violent and abusive that it became necessary, owing 
to there being no secure jail in the place, to tie him 
to a post, his arms being thrown around it and fas- 
tened in front. This position was a punishment as 
well as a secure one, and he was kept there until 
thoroughly sober and subjugated. 

This severe treatment caused Jack to take a pub- 
lic oath to kill Kingsbury, Whitney and Wild Bill 
at the first opportunity, and every one who knew 
the man felt that he would keep his word. 

The day of fate arrived in 1869, and under the 
following circumstances : Wild Bill was in Tommy 
Drum's saloon, in company with a crowd of drink- 
ing characters, indulging, as was his wont, when 
Strawhan entered by a side door. Bill's eyes were 
always on the lookout for danger, and they caught 
Jack the moment he stepped upon the threshold. 
Bill made a pretence of not noticing his bitter 
enemy, but quietly grasped his pistol and kept talk- 
ing, unconcernedly, as before. Strawhan thought 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



47 



his opportunity had come, and that Bill was off hU 
guard, but the moment Strawhan attempted to level 
his pistol, Bill wheeled and shot him dead, the ball from 
his weapon entering Stravvhan's right eye, felling 




Death of Jack Strawhan. 

him without a groan. Bill then turned back to the 
counter of the b^r, and asked everybody in the sa- 
loon to take a drink, never giving the slightest heed 
to the body of the man which lay on the floor dead, 
with his face smothered in a pool of blood. Every- 



V 



48 LIFE OF WILD BILL, 

one drank. The coroner was sent for and the crowd 
gave their testimony. Bill was acquitted the same 
day, and serenaded by the authorities at night. 

Whitney escaped death at Strawhan's hands, but 
was killed by a Texan named Ben Thompson, in 



BILL MULVEY'S LAST ROW. 

Shortly after the event just related, Bill Mulvey, 
a notorious rough and desperado from St. Joseph, 
Mo., struck Hays City, and got on what we term in 
the West, "a great big tear." He paraded the 
streets with a revolver in each hand, howling like an 
enraged tiger, and thirsting for some one's blood. 
He was met by the squire and constable, both of 
whom endeavored to make him keep the peace, but 
their efforts were so far futile that he turned upon 
them and drove both out of the town. Wild Bill, 
who chanced to be in a saloon in another part of the 
place, where he was unconscious of the disturbance, 
was notified, and at once started to arrest Mulvey. 
Approaching his man quietly, in a most amiable tone 
he told Mulvey that he should have to arrest him for 
disturbing the peace. Mulvey had his pistols in his 
hands at the time, and in an instant they were lev- 
eled at Wild Bill's head, with the injunction, " March 
before me." Bill fully appreciated the danger of his 
position, but his remarkable self-possession and cool- 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 49 

ness never deserted him. Before turning to march 
in front of Mulvey, Bill raised his left hand, and with 
a look of dissatisfaction, said: "Boys, don't hit 
him." This remark had the desired effect, for as 
Bill had not shown his pistol, Mulvey turned to see 
who Bill had spoken to, and to protect his rear. In 
the twinkle of an eye, Bill whipped out his pistol and 
shot Mulvey dead, the ball entering the victim's head 
just behind the ear. 

The West was thus relieved of another desperate 
character, and Wild Bill received a vote of thanks 
from the citizens for his conduct. ' 



A FIGHT WITH FIFTEEN SOLDIERS. 

Bill's fortunate escape from death in his fight 
with the McCandlas gang at Rock Creek was no 
more remarkable than one of his fights at Hays City 
which occurred in 1 870. During this year, the /th 
U. S. Cavalry was stationed at that post, and many 
of the soldiers, partaking of the desperate nature 
which distinguished the place, gave the authorities 
great trouble. Bill's duties as city marshal caused 
an antagonism which finally culminated in a most 
desperate fight with fifteen of the soldiers, the par- 
ticulars of which are as follows : On the day in 
question, several of the soldiers became very drunk, 
among them a large sergeant who had a particular 

4 



50 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

aversion to Bill on account of his having arrested, 
at divers times, several of the members of his 
company. The sergeant was in Paddy Welch's 
saloon with several of his men, indulging in 
a noisy carousal. Welch sent for Bill to remove the 
crowd, but when he arrived the sergeant insisted on 
fighting Bill in the street. He confessed that he was 
no match for Bill in a duel, but dared him to meet 
him in fistic encounter. To this proposition Bill 
consented, and taking out his two revolvers he passed 
them to Welch, and the two combatants, followed 
by the crowd inside, stepped out of the saloon and 
into the street. Although the sergeant was much 
the larger man, he was no equal for Bill, and in a 
moment after the fight began the sergeant was 
knocked down, and Bill was administering to him a 
most severe thrashing. The soldiers, fourteen in 
number, seeing their sergeant at great disadvan- 
tage, and in danger of never getting back to camp 
with a sound body, rushed in to his assistance, 
some with clubs, and others with stones, seemingly 
determined to kill Bill. • Paddy Welch was near at 
hand, and seeing the desperate position he occupied, 
ran into the crowd and succeeded in placing the two 
revolvers in his hands. In another moment he dis- 
c larged a shot which killed one of the soldiers, and 
wjuld have done more terrible execution but for the 
cr )wd that was on him, which prevented him from 
usi'.ig his hands. 

When the first soldier fell dead there was a hasty 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. S* 

dispersion of the others, but only to get their pistols, 
which were near at hand, and to renew the attack. 
For a few minutes there was rapid firing, and three 
more of the soldiers fell, one of them dead, and the 
other two mortally wounded. The odds were too 
great for Bill, and though he was struck with seven 
bullets, he managed -to escape from the crowd and 
get out of town. Night coming on very soon after 
the fight was over, enabled Bill to cross Smoky river 
and secrete himself several miles from the town, 
where he remained lying in a buffalo wallow for two 
days, caring for his wounds. He was hit three times 
in the arms, once in the side and three times in the 
legs. None of the wounds were serious, but he was 
compelled to tear up his shirt and drawers for banda- 
ges to stop the flow of blood. 

On the following day after the fight. Gen. Sheri- 
dan ordered a detachment of cavalry to go in pur- 
suit of Bill, and, using his own words, ** to take him 
dead or alive," but, although the pursuit was entered 
into earnestly, they never found the object of their 
search. 

After getting able to travel, which was on the third 
day, Bill managed to drag his sore and hungry body 
down to Bill Williams' ranche, where he was ten- 
derly cared for. No one can imagine the suffering 
he endured during the two days he lay in the buffalo 
wallow. His wounds, though but flesh injuries, gave 
him excruciating pain. He drew his boots, which 
were filled with blood, and was unable to put the.oi 



t;2 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



on again. He lost his hat during the fight, and, 
after tearing up his underclothes, he literally had no 
protection from the chill and damp of the night. 
When he attempted to rise from the ground, the 
agony he suffered was as intense as mortal could 
bear; but notwithstanding the pain he endured, the 
excessive hunger which began to oppress and 
weaken him, compelled him to make the effort to 
reach Williams' ranche, which he succeeded in do- 
ing, as before stated. 

After remaining at the ranche a few days, Bill sent 
for his friend Whitney, then sheriff of Ellsworth 
county, he having succeeded Capt. Kingsbury, and 
by him Bill was taken to Ellsworth. But the con- 
stant dread of detection made it advisable for Bill to 
leave Ellsworth, which he did in a few days, by the 
kindly assistance of Jim Bomon, a conductor of a 
freight train on the Kansas Pacific railroad, who 
locked him in a box car and brought him to Junction 
City. At this place Bill received proper surgical 
attention and soon recovered. 



A DEATH FIGHT WITH TEXAS GAMBLERS. 

The removal of the Seventh Cavalry from Hays 
City gave Bill immunity from danger from that 
quarter, and though he did not return to that place, 
he accepted the office of city marshal of Abilene, a 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 53 

town one hundred miles east of Hays City, and fre- 
quently visited the latter place on business. 

Abilene was the point from which all the cattle 
from Texas for the Eastern markets were shipped. 
Immense droves were daily brought into the place, 
and with the cattle came the drovers, a large major- 
ity of whom were Texan desperadoes. The town 
bristled with business, and crimes and drunkenness 
became so common that by general consent Abilene 
was called the Gomorrah of the West. Gamblers 
and bad women, drunken cut-throats and pimps, 
overshadowed all other society, and the carnival of 
iniquity never ceased. The civil officers were plas- 
tic to the touch of the ruffians, and the town was 
ruled by intimidation. 

When Bill assumed charge of the office of mar- 
shal, the law and order class had hopes for a radical 
change, and yet they were very doubtful of the abil- 
ity of one man to curb the reckless and lawless 
spirit of so many vicious desperadoes — men who 
were familiar with the pistol and did not hesitate to 
murder and plunder, and who took pleasure in 
*' stampeding " the place. 

In two days after Bill entered upon the discharge 
of his duties, occasion presented for a manifestation 
of his pluck. Phil. Cole, a gambler, and one of the 
most dangerous men in the West, in company with 
his pal, whose name cannot now be recalled, conclu- 
ded to run the town after their own fashion for at 
least one day. They began by smashing windows 



54 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



promiscuously, insulting women, discharging their 
pistols, and other like conduct. Bill met them while 
they were in the midst of their deviltry, and under- 
took their arrest. He knew Phil. Cole by reputation, 
and was prepared for the fight he expected. Cole 
told Bill that his arrest depended upon who was the 
better man, and at once drew his pistol. McWil- 
liams, Bill's deputy, stepped up and tried to pacify 
Cole, and at the same time to secure his pistol, but 
Cole was anxious for a fight and fired at Bill, but 
missed his mark. Bill returned the fire, but at the 
moment he pulled th^ trigger of his pistol. Cole, in 
his struggle, threw McWilliams in front of him and 
the bullet from the pistol struck the faithful dep- 
uty, killing him almost instantly. Cole's pal, who, 
until this time, seemed a mute spectator of the af- 
fray, then drew his pistol, and also fired at Bill, the 
bullet passing through Bill's hat, and before Cole or 
his mate could fire again. Bill had put a bullet 
through the head of each, and the fight was ended. 
The death of McWilliams was most sincerely de- 
plored by everyone, but by none as it was by Bill, 
and in years afterward he could not have the sad 
event recalled to mind without crying like a child. 

The killing of Cole was a most fortunate event for 
the better class of citizens of Abilene, because it at 
once improved the morals of the place. The men 
who had for years before rioted at their pleasure, de- 
fied the law and badgered decency, began to feel 
that to continue in the same course would be to risk 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 55 

their lives. Nevertheless, the death of Phil. Cole 
only diminished the lawless excesses — it did not en- 
tirely prevent them. Bill never liad another occa- 
sion to kill anyone in Abilene, but his club fell heav- 
ily on many heads determined on vicious acts* His 
enemies among the Texas cattle men multiplied 
rapidly, and he realized that there was not a moment 
that he could safely turn his back to any of them. 
A cattle king of Texas, whose name we do not choose 
to mention, as he is still living, was arrested by Bill for 
violent conduct on the street during a spree, and, as he 
strenuously resisted. Bill was forced to use his club. 
The man paid his fine on the following day, but be- 
fore leaving town he declared that he would get even 
with Bill before many months elapsed. 



A REWARD OF ^5,000 IN GOLD OFFERED 
FOR BILL'S HEART. 

The large and wealthy cattle raiser referred to, 
directly after returning to Texas, selected eight des- 
perate characters — men who he knew would not 
hesitate to commit any crime for the sake of money — 
and offered them the sum of five thousand dollars in 
gold if they would kill Wild Bill and secure his 
heart. The proposition was made at a pre-arranged 
meeting, which took place in an old barn on the 
premises of the cattle raiser, at which each of the 



56 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



employed assassins was required to take an oat 
not to divulge the name of the man who hired ther 
under any circumstances, except in the event of tl 
refusal of the employer to pay over the sum agree 
upon directly upon the delivery to him of Wild Bill's 
heart. It was a terrible contract in the eyes of civ 
ilization, but an excellent one in the estimation of 
those a party to it. 

In a few days after the arrangement was conclu- 
ded, the sum of fifty dollars was placed in the hands 
of each of the hired assassins as forfeit money, to 
pay expenses of the trip to Abilene, and the eight 
villains then started out upon their mission. 

After reaching Abilene, as was customary among 
the Texans who visited the place, the party got on a 
big drunk, and, while in this condition, one of the 
number explained the nature of his trip to an ac- 
quaintance who, by chance, was a secret friend of 
Bill's. The information was very soon imparted to 
Bill, and the villains were foiled in the following 
manner: Bill decided to go to Topeka by tlie train, 
and to have the assassins made acquainted with 
his purpose. He knew they would follow him, 
because they would consider it safer to kill their 
man by luring him onto the platform of a train, 
where a knife thrust would finish their work without 
the knowledge of the other passengers, than to at- 
tack him in the boundaries of his official jurisdiction 
among his friends. Accordingly, Bill got on the 
evening train going east, and saw the eight villains 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



57 



g-et into the coach in the rear of the one he entered. 
Bill vvisel}^ concluded that no attempt would be made 
upon his life until a late hour, when the passengers 
would generally be asleep, and quietly kept his seat 
until about eleven o'clock, when the train was pass- 
ing a dark and deep cut a few miles west of Topeka. 




Bill Drives his would-be Assassins from the Train. 

He concluded now was the time to act ; so, drawmg 
his two revolvers, he entered the car where the eight 
would-be murderers sat. In an instant all was at- 
tention, but confusion soon followed, for Bill raise(ii 
his pistols and commanded the assassins to file out 
of the car before him. They saw at once that hesi- 
tation meant death, and without attempting the pur- 



58 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

pose for which they came, every one of them hastily 
arose and did as Bill commanded, leaping from the 
rapidly-moving train apparently without a thought 
of the danger in so doing. Three of them were so 
badly hurt in the fall that their companions had to 
carry them off, and one of the most notorious of the 
party died two days afterwards of his injuries. The 
parting injunction which Bill gave them forced them 
to abandon the idea of getting his heart. Said he: 
" If any of you gray-backed hell-hounds ever cross 
my track again, I'll make blood-pudding out of your 
infernal carcasses." Bill would undoubtedly have 
attacked the men had it not been for the presence of 
so many passengers, some of whom would certainly 
have been killed in the conflict. 

If this pamphlet should, perchance, be read by 
four men — known to be living — and one in particu- 
lar, there will be a scene not wholly unlike that which 
transpired when Banquo's gho^t arose before the 
startled vision of Macbeth. 



BILL THUMJeSON'S FATAL SURPRISE. 

Wild Bill got off the train at Topeka, and re- 
turned to Abilene the next day. A week later he 
went up to Ellsworth, to which place he was a fre- 
quent visitor, being attracted to that town by a wo- 
man whose name we omit to mention, by her request. 



LIFE Of WILD BILL. 59 

This woman was the keeper of a house of ill-repute, 
but her beauty made her a most attractive person, 
and her real admirers were numbered by hundreds. 
She is now pursuing the same calling in Kansas City, 
but though still a fine looking woman, very few 
traces of her former beauty remain. She is wealthy, 
however, and what she now lacks in natural appear- 
ance, she compensates for by artificial means, and is 
still a leader of her kind. Bill's love for her was un- 
doubtedly genuine, although he never asked her hand 
in marriage. Bill Thompson, a big bully, and handy 
with his pistol, was also a worshiper at the same 
shrine, and hated Wild Bill more inveterately than 
any other man on earth. This hatred was, perhaps, 
not so much inspired by the rivalry between them 
for the woman's smiles, as it was caused by the fact 
that on one occasion Wild Bill had arrested and se- 
verely handled Thompson, while the latter was ca- 
rousing in Abilene. Thompson had repeatedly made 
threats which reached Bill's ears, and caused him to 
be watchful. A collision occurred between the two 
in a restaurant in Ellsworth, under the following cir- 
cumstances : Bill had entered the place and called 
for an oyster stew. He took a seat in a small alcove, 
in which was a table, with his back to the saloon, 
a position he was never known to assume before or 
since. The moment the waiter was entering with 
the stew, Bill turned in his seat at the very instant to 
see Thompson enter a side door with pistol in hand. 
Bill shpped out of his chair and dropped onto his 



6o 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



knees, with the view of using the chair as a sort of 
breastwork. The instant he moved, a ball from 
Thompson's pistol whistled passed his ear, and 
struck the plate on the table in front of him. Before 
another shot could be fired from the same course, 
Bill jerked one of the two derringers he nearly al- 
ways carried, from his pants pocket, and, whirling 
on one knee, sent a bullet squarely into Thompson's 
forehead. The man fell forward on his face without 
uttering a sound, stone-dead ; the dish of soup in the 
waiter's hand tumbled onto the floor and broke into 
fragments. Resuming his seat again at the table, 
merely rising from his kneeling position, Bill told the 
affrighted waiter to bring him that oyster stew he had 
ordered, but the restaurant speedily filled with mor- 
bid people, and there was too much excitement to 
admit of serving stews thereafter. Bill was the least 
excited of any, and after waiting a few moments, and 
seeing that he could not get what he called for, he 
w^ent out of the place and took his oyster stew at 
another restaurant. Of course he was arrested, but 
as it was a clear case of self-defense, he was at once 
discharged. 



MAKES TWENTY MEN ASK AN APOLOGY. 

In a few weeks after the killing of Thompson, Bill 
again visited Ellsworth, and during this visit he met 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 6l 

with an episode in which his influence among the 
desperado element was clearly evidenced. Reaching 
the town late in the evening, he had gone direct to 
the house kept by the woman just referred to, and 
after taking supper and playing a few games of cards 
with her, he retired to bed. About eleven o'clock at 
night, loud and boisterous noises, coupled with threats 
to tear the house down if admittance were refused, 
awakened everyone in the house. One of the girls 
raised a front window and asked the crowd what they 
wanted. The reply came that they intended to clean 
out the house, and to open the door quick, or they 
would break it down. The crowd numbered twenty 
of the worst men Ellsworth could produce, and as 
they were two-thirds drunk, everyone in the building 
except Bill became very much alarmed, and fearful 
that some fatal consequences would be the result. 
Bill arose from bed, and telling everyone in the 
house to leave the settlement of the trouble to him, 
descended the stairs in his night clothes, with his 
two derringers in his hands. A light was burning in 
the hall, and while the men were pounding on the 
door, and swearing that they would burn the house 
and everyone in it, Bill unlocked the door and threw 
it open. As he did so, he placed himself upon the 
threshold, and told the crowd that he would give 
them just ten seconds to leave the place, adding: 
** Or I'll turn this place into a great big slaughter- 
house." The surprise depicted on the faces of those 
twenty men was a fit subject for a painter. They 



62 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

all tried to apologize at once. Said the leader: "I'll 
take my oath, Bill, if I'd a-knowed you was here I 
never would a-come ; we never meant any harm, and 
as you are a gentleman, and we're drunk, we owe you 
an apology. We'll leave this minute." They all 
added in chorus : "That's so, Bill, and we beg your 
pardon a thousand times." 

"Then get out of here !" responded Bill. 

And they went at once. 



BILL'S FIGHT WITH PHH. COLE'S COUSIN. 

About one year after the killing of Phil Cole at 
Abilene, Wild Bill had occasion to visit Wichita, 
Kansas, on some private business. He made the 
trip on horseback, there being no other mode of 
travel between the two places. Bill was acquainted 
with no one in Wichita, and habit caused him to 
make his first stop in the place before a saloon, where 
he hitched his horse and went in. There was no one 
in the saloon at the time of his entrance ; so Bill took 
a seat expecting the proprietor had just stepped out 
and would be back in a short time. While he was 
sitting beside a table reading a newspaper, a stranger 
stepped in and enquired : 

"Is your name Wild Bill?" 

" That is what they call me," responded Bill. 

"Then take that," said the stranger, draw-ing a 
pist^ and shooting at Bill. The muzzle of the pistol 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 63 

was so close that the flash burned Bill's face and the 
bullet struck him at the base of the hair on the left 
side of his forehead and cut out a furrow of flesh and 
hair. Bill fell unconscious, but the saloon keeper 
coming in a moment after the shot was fired, threw 
some water in his face and consciousness was soon 
restored. 

The stranger jumped on his horse after discharg- 
ing the shot and rode off furiously towards the south. 

It was hardly ten minutes after the shooting before 
Bill had recovered sufficiently from the stunning ef- 
fects of the shot to mount his horse and start in 
pursuit of his unknown assailant. 

Bill was mounted on an excellent horse, and as he 
had no difficulty in ascertaining the route taken by 
the stranger, the ride was a fast and furious one. The 
pursued and pursuer, after a running ride of thirty 
miles, came in sight of each other, and a desperate 
fight was now prepared for. The stranger supposed 
he had killed Bill and was being pursued by some 
officer of justice ; but Bill was urged on by his ex- 
cessive hunger for revenge, and it soon came— terri- 
ble enough. When about fifty y^-J-ds apart, Bill 
discharged his pistol at the stranger, but the ball 
struck and disabled the horse. There was then an 
exchange of shots and the stranger lay dead on the 
ground with a bullet in his brain. Not satisfied 
with killing the man, Bill stooped over the prostrate 
body and drawing a bowie-knife from its sheath, he 
cut a slice out of the stranger's head which he con- 



64 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

sidered would correspond with the wound in his own. 
This bloody trophy Bill carried with him for years 
afterwards — a dried piece of flesh and hair. 

The stranger proved to be a cousin of Phil Cole, 
the gambler, and from facts gathered afterwards, it 
was shown that he had long sought an opportunity 
to avenge his cousin's death. The revenge was, 
however, visited upon the head of the avenger. 



HE REMOVES TO KANSAS CITY. 

Bill served the time for which he was chosen as 
marshal of Abilene, and in the spring of 1872 re- 
moved to Kansas City. It was at this place the 
writer — then connected with the daily Journal — met 
him and formed an intimate acquaintance, which af- 
forded abundant opportunity to learn his real char- 
acter as a man. Bill was frequently importuned for 
the particulars of his marvelous adventures, and per- 
mission to write his life, but he always positively re- 
fused. The last time this request was made, he re- 
turned the following reply: "Well, Buel, I expect 
my life has been a little interesting, and it might 
please some people to read about my adventures, but 
I don't want a word written about me until after I'm 
dead. I never fought any man for notoriety, and am 
sorry that I've got the name I have. Since Ne-d 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



65 



Buntllne made a hero out of such material as Bill 
Cody (Buffalo Bill,) I've thought it time to drop out 
of sight. I took Cody when he was left alone in the 
world, a young lad, and partially raised him. Well, 
I don't want to say anything against the boy, but his 
pluck wouldn't go at par. I've kept a little diary of 
all my exploits, and when I'm dead I'll be glad if it 
falls into your hands, and from it you may be able 
to write something interesting. When I die it will 
be just as you now see me, and sickness will not be 
the cause. For more than ten years I've been con- 
stantly expecting to be killed, and it is certain to 
come before a great while longer." 

During this conversation Bill appeared to be unus- 
ually sad, and when he referred to his death it was 
with a seriousness which indicated that he had been 
notified of his tragic end by some terrible presenti- 
ment. 

He was an expert poker-player, and followed 
no other calling while in Kansas City. The place 
was fairly filled with gamblers, and up to 1875 the 
voice of the keno caller could be heard in nearly 
every other building on Main street, between Mis- 
souri avenue and Fourth street. The Marble block, 
and houses on the west side of the square, were par- 
ticularly the haunts of gamblers. Murders and rows 
were not infrequent, but Bill kept out of all difficul- 
ties. He was both feared and respected. His car- 
riage was that of a peaceable gentleman, and during 
the three years he made Kansas City his home, he 



^ LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

was a party to but one row, and that was of minor 
consequence. This difficulty occurred in the St. 
Nicholas Hotel bar-room, owned by Joe Siegmund, 
now the proprietor of a hotel in Malvern, Arkansas. 
A foppish fellow, half-drunk, being told that the party 
drinking at the bar was Wild Bill, went up to him, 
and, in a most provoking manner, asked Bill if he 
was the desperado who had been killing men indis- 
criminately out West. The impertinent inquiry 
called forth from Bill an equally insulting reply. The 
fellow, evidently bent on a row, then began to talk 
of shooting, and his ability ** to lick any border ruf- 
fian that ever lived." Bill walked up to him slowly, 
and as the senseless fop was attempting to draw a 
pistol, he caught him by one ear and slapped his 
face until the fellow howled for mercy. 



A PRIZE FIGHT IN A CHICAGO BILLIARD 

ROOM. 

In 1874 Bill engaged in a battle with a tribe of 
Indians under Black-Kettle, in which he received a 
severe wound from a spear thrust through his thigh. 
Being very much disabled he paid a visit to his 
aged mother and relatives at Troy Grove, Illinois, 
where he remained some weeks and until the wound 
healed. Before returning west he went to Chicago 
to see his old friend, Heman Baldwin, and while 
there the two entered the St. James Hotel bar to 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. W 

play a game of billiards. WhUr being thus en- 
gaged seven Chicago roughs b^^nm bantering hnn 
on account of the buckskin cloiUes he wore and 
ciiallenged him for a prize fight. Bill replied to 
ihem that he was not a fighting man, and that he 
was at that time still suffering from a newly healed 
wound. They continued their insults, and finally 
told him that he had to fight or acknowledge that 
he was a coward and his reported exploits bogus. 
Bill's courage came to the surface quickly enough, 
and drawing his two pistols-both of which were 
presents to him from Vice-President Wilson— the 
fight began, one man against seven. The pistoh 
vJ'ere used as "billys," and in a few seconds the seven 
roughs were stretched upon the floor and complete!)- 
at Bill's mercy. The injuries they received con- 
sisted of severe scalp wounds, the marks fwnn which 
will be carried through life. 



BILL'S MARRIAGE TO MRS. LAKE. 

In the fall of 1874, Bill met Mrs. Lake, the widow 
of William Lake, proprietor of Lake's circus, who 
was killed by J\ck Keenan at Granby, Missouri, in 
1873. The meeting was purely accidental, but the 
consequences were matrimonial. A courtship fol- 
lowed, and in the early part of 1875 the two were 
married by a justice of the peace in Kansas City. 
Within a few months after the marriage Bill became 
afflicted with sore eyes, from which he suffered \d 



68 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

tensely, and for the period of nine months was 
unable to distinguish daylight from darkness. Dr. 
Thorne, previously noticed as one of Bill's confi- 
dants, was his physician, and succeeded in restoring 
his sight, but his eyes never regained their former 
strength, and the vision remained impaired. In the 
winter of 1875-76, a separation occurred between Bill 
and his wife, the causes of which we deem it improper 
to relate in this epitome of his life. Suffice it to say 
that those best qualified to decide, claim that no 
blame attaches to Bill for the termination of his mar- 
ital relation. No divorce, we believe, was ever ap- 
plied for by either party, but they never met after 
the spring of 1876. The writer has tried for two 
years to learn the address and whereabouts of Mrs. 
Hickok, nee Mrs. Lake, but 'his efforts have been 
without avail. The last heard of her she was living 
in Cincinnati. 



MAKES HIS DEBUT ON THE STAGE. 

In February, 1876, Wild Bill entered into an en- 
gagement with Ned Buntline, (Judson,) the novelist 
who created Buffalo Bill and his exploits, to appear 
as a leading character in a border play he had writ- 
ten for the stage. The troupe was made up in New 
York, and the principal actors were Wild Bill, Buf- 
falo Bill and Texas Jack. The business was a most 
disagreeable one for Wild Bill, who entered into the 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 69 

engagement solely under the pressure of pecuniary 
needs. The authorities of Kansas City had so vig- 
orously prosecuted the gamblers that the profession- 
als were compelled to abandon their games, and thus 
Bill became, to use his own expression, " severely 
money-bound." Buntline, with a vivid imagination 
running at all times through carnage and lawless- 
ness, employed his best ability in getting up the 
posters heralding the appearance of his troupe. 
Wild Bill was posted in large, blood-red letters as 
having killed thirty-six men, and the most desperate 
man that ever set foot on the plains. His nature 
arose with revolt at such a pubHcity of his character, 
and after playing the role of a border bandit for two 
months, he peremptorily refused to appear on the 
stage any longer. 



BILL'S LAST TRIP TO THE BLACK HILLS. 

After leaving the Buntline troupe. Wild Bill 
came to St. Louis for the purpose of organizing an 
expedition to the Black Hills. The gold fever was 
at its height, and St. Louis, like all other Western 
cities, was very much excited over the auriferous 
discoveries. Bill remained in St. Louis about three 
weeks, at the end of which time he had succeeded 
in organizing a party of nearly one hundred men, 
which was increased to one hundred and fifty by ad- 
ditions received at Kansas City. The party arrived 



7^ LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

at the Black Hills in the latter part of June, Bill go- 
ing to Deadwood, and the others distributing them- 
selves among the hills, where they established 
ranches and began their quest for gold. 

Deadwood was a gay place when Bill entered its 
limits, and the life led by its mixed citizens was ex- 
actly suited to his disposition. Every other house 
was a saloon, and if ever there was a gambler's 
paradise, it was there. The female portion of Dead- 
wood's population was limited, but the few who 
were there, were so active and boisterous as to com- 
pensate for ten times the same number of ordinary 
women. Bill was in his element, although he had 
no disposition to take a part in the wild orgies of the 
drunken, maudlin crowd which infested every nook 
and corner of the place. He liked the freedom the 
society permitted, but indulged himself only in 
gambling and an occasional drink. 

Bill made many friends in Deadwood, and it was not 
known that he had any enemies in the Black Hills, 
but while he was surrounded by friends, he should 
never have forgotten the fact that his enemies were 
almost like the leaves of the forest. They were 
always plotting his destruction and laying snares 
along his path. The end came at last, just as Bill 
had himself often predicted. 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



71 



ASSASSINATION OF WILD BILL. 



On the 2d day of August, 1876, Wild Bill was in 
Lewis & Mann's saloon, playing a game of poker 
with Capt. Massey, a Missouri river pilot, Charley 
Rich, and Cool Mann, one of the proprietors of the 
saloon. The game had been in progress nearly 




Death of Wild Bill. 

three hours, when about 4 o'clock, p. M., a man was 
seen to enter the door and pass up to the bar. Bill 
was sitting on a stool with the back of his head to- 
wards and about five feet from the bar. When the 



72 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

man entered, Bill had just picked up the cards dealt 
him, and was looking at his " hand," and therefore 
took no notice of the newcomer. The man, who 
proved to be Jack McCall, alias Bill Sutherland, af- 
ter approaching the bar, turned, and drawing a large 
navy revolver, placed the muzzle within two 
inches of Bill's head and fired. The bullet entered 
the base of the brain, tore through the head, 
and made its exit at the right cheek, between 
the upper and lower jaw-bones, breaking off several 
teeth and carrying away a large piece of the 
cerebellum through the wound. The bullet struck 
Capt. Massey, who sat opposite Bill, in the right 
arm and broke the bone. At the instant the pistol 
was discharged, the cards fell from Bill's hands and 
he dropped sideways off the stool without uttering a 
sound. His companions were so horrified that sev- 
eral moments elapsed before it was discovered that 
Capt. Massey was wounded. 

The assassin turned upon the crowd and compelled 
them to file out of the saloon before him. After 
reaching the street he defied arrest, but at five 
o'clock he gave himself up and asked for an imme- 
diate trial. Deadwood was, at that time, so primi- 
tive that it had no city officers, and there was no one 
legally competent to take charge of or try the pris- 
oner. During the same evening, however, a coroner 
was chosen, who impaneled a jury and returned a 
verdict to the effect that J. B. Hickok (Wild Bill) 
came to his death from a wound resulting from a 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 73 

shot fired from a pistol by John McCall, alias Bill 
Sutherland. 

Having proceeded thus far, it was determined to 
elect a judge, sheriff and prosecuting attorney to try 
McCall on the following day. Languishe, the lessee 
of McDaniel's theatre, offered the use of the theatre 
for the purposes of the trial, which was arranged to 
take place at 9 o'clock on the following morning. 
Three men were sent out in different directions to 
notify the miners in the neighborhood of the mur- 
der, and to request their attendance at the trial. 

Promptly at the time appointed, the improvised 
court convened, and Joseph Brown, who had been 
chosen sheriff, produced the prisoner. F. J. Kuy- 
kendall, the pro tempore judge, then addressed the 
crowd in a very appropriate manner, reminding those 
present that the court was purely a self-constituted 
one, but that in the discharge of his duty he would 
be governed by justice, and trust to them for a rati- 
fication of his acts. His remarks were greeted with 
hand-clappings of approval. The prisoner was then 
led forward and conducted to a seat on the stage to 
the right of the judge. 

Never did a more forbidding countenance face a 
court than that of Jack McCall ; his head, which was 
covered with a thick crop of chestnut hair, was very 
narrow as to the parts occupied by the intellectual 
portion of the brain, while the animal development 
was exceedingly large. A small, sandy moustache 
covered a sensual mouth, and the coarse double-chin 



74 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

was partially hid by a stifif goatee. The nose was what 
is commonly called " snub ;" he had cross eyes and 
a florid complexion, which completed a more repul- 
sive picture than Dore could conceive. He was clad 
in a blue flannel shirt, brown overalls, heavy shoes, 
and, as he sat in a stooping position, with his arms 
folded across his breast, he evidently assumed a non- 
chalance and bravado which were foreign to his feel- 
ings, and betrayed by the spasmodic heavings of his 
heart. 

The selection of a jury consumed all the forenoon, 
as it was next to impossible to select a man who 
had not formed or expressed an opinion concerning 
the murder, although but few who were in the panel 
had heard of the tragedy until a few hours before. 
A hundred names were selected, written upon sep- 
arate scraps of paper, and placed in a hat. They 
were then well shaken, and the committee appointed 
for the purpose drew from the hat one name at a 
time. The party answering to the name then came 
forward and was examined by the judge touching 
his fitness to serve as an impartial juror. Ninety- 
two names were called from the panel before the 
jury was made up. Following are those who were 
selected and served : J. J. Bumfs, L. D. Brokow, J. 
H. Thompson, C. Whitehead, Geo. S. Hopkins, J. F. 
Cooper, Alexander Travis, K. F. Towle, John E. 
Thompson, L. A. Judd, Edward Burke and John 
Mann. The jurors being sworn, they took their 
seats, and testimony for the prosecution was begun. 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 75 

The first witness called was Charles Rich, who said 
that he was in the saloon kept by Lewis & Mann on 
the afternoon of the 2d, and was seated at a table 
playing a game of poker with Wild Bill and several 
others, when the prisoner, whom he identified, came 
into the room, walked deliberately up to Wild Bill, 
placed a pistol to the. back of the deceased, and fired, 
saying : " Take that ! " Bill fell from the stool upon 
which he had been s^^.ted without uttering a word. 

Samuel Young testified that he was engaged in 
the saloon; that he had just delivered $i^ worth of 
pocket checks to the deceased, and was returning to 
his place behind the bar when he heard the report of 
a pistol shot ; turning around, he saw the prisoner at 
the back of Wild Bill with a pistol in his hand 
which he had just discharged ; heard him say, "Take 
that ! " 

Carl Mann was one of the proprietors of the sa- 
loon in which Wild Bill was killed ; was in the poker 
game ; noticed a commotion ; saw the prisoner (whom 
he identified) shoot Wild Bill. 

The defense called for the first witness, P. H. Smith, 
who said he had been in the employ of McCall four 
months ; that he was not a man of quarrelsome dis- 
position; that he had always considered him a man 
of good character; that he (the witness) had been 
introduced to Wild Bill in Cheyenne, and drank 
with him ; that the deceased had a bad reputation, 
and had been the terror of every place in which he 
had resided. 



76 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

H. H. Pickens said that he had known defendant 
four years, and believed him to be a quiet and peace- 
able man. Wild Bill's reputation as a ** shootist " 
was very hard ; he was quick in using the pistol and 
never missed his man, and had killed quite a number 
of persons in different parts of the country. 

Ira Ford had known the defendant about one year ; 
" like a great many others, he would go upon a 
spree like the rest of the boys." Wild Bill had the 
reputation or being a brave man, who could and 
would shoot quicker than any man in the Western 
country, and who always "got away" with his 
antagonist. 

The defense called several others, the tenor of 
whose evidence was but a repetition of the forego- 
ing. No attempt was made to show that Wild Bill 
had ever seen the prisoner. 

The prisoner was called upon to make a state- 
ment. He came down from the stage into the audi- 
torium of the theatre, and with his right hand in the 
bosom of his shirt, his head thrown back, in a harsh, 
loud and repulsive voice, with a bull-dog sort of 
bravado, said : ** Well, men, I have but a few words 
to say. Wild Bill threatened to kill me if I crossed 
his path. I am not sorry for what I have done. I 
would do the same thing over again." The prisoner 
then returned to his place on the stage. 

The prosecution then adduced testimony to prove 
that Wild Bill was a much abused man ; that he 
never imposed on any one, and that in every instance 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. ^^ 

where he had slain men he had done so either in the 
discharge of his duty as an officer of the law or in 
self-defense. 

The case having been placed in the hands of the 
jury, the theatre was cleared, with the understanding 
that the verdict should be made known in the saloon 
where the murder was committed. The prisoner 
was remanded to the house where he had been im- 
prisoned during the night. At 9 o'clock the follow- 
ing verdict was read to the prisoner; 

Deadwood City, Aug. 3, 1876. — We, the jurors, find the prisoner, 
Mr. John McCall, not guilty. CHARLES WHITEHEAD, 

Foreman. 

The prisoner was at once liberated, and several of 
the model jurymen who had played their parts in 
this burlesque upon justice, and who had turner 
their bloodthirsty tiger loose upon the community, 
indulged in a sickening cheer which grated harshly 
upon the ears of those who heard it. The first vote 
taken by the jury resulted in eleven for acquittal and 
one for conviction, and the single man who desired 
justice was so intimidated by his fellow-jurors that 
he was induced to sanction the iniquitous verdict. 
It was'even proposed by one of the jurymen that the 
prisoner be fined fifteen or twenty dollars and set 
free. 

After the inquest the body of the deceased was 
placed upon a litter made of two poles and some 
boards ; then a procession was formed, and the re- 
mains were carried to Charley Utter's camp, across 



7$ LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

the creek. Charles Utter, better known as Colorado 
Charley, had been the intimate friend of the ue- 
ceased for fifteen years, and with that liberality whi jh 
is a feature among mountaineers, had always shared 
his purse with him. Charley was much affected by 
the death of his friend, and incensed at the villain 
who had murdered him. A tepee was pitched at 
the foot of one of the giant trees which rise so ma- 
jestically above Charley's camp. Preparations were 
at once made for the funeral. The following notice 
was printed and sent out : 

» 

** Funeral Notice. — Died in Deadwood, Black Hills, Aug. 2, 
1876, from the effects of a pistol shot, J. B. Ilickok (Wild Bill,) for- 
merly of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Funeral services will be held at Char- 
ley Utter's camp, on Thursday afternoon, Aug. 3, 1S76, at 3 o'clock. 
All are respectfully invited to attend." 

At the time appointed a number of people gath- 
ered at the camp — Charley Utter had gone to a great 
deal of expense to make the funeral as fine as could 
be had in that country. Under the tepee, in a 
handsome coffin, covered with black cloth and richly 
mounted with silver ornaments, lay Wild Bill, a pic- 
ture of perfect repose. His long chestnut hair, 
evenly parted over his marble brow, hung in waving 
ringlets over the broad shoulders ; his face was 
cleanly shaved excepting the drooping moustache, 
which shaded a mouth that in death almost seemed 
to smile, but in life was unusually grave ; the 
arms were folded over the stilled breast, which in- 
closed a heart that had beat with regular pulsation 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 79 

ar^*'' the most startling scenes of blood and vio- 
lence. The corpse was clad in complete dress-suit 
of 'black broadcloth, new underclothing and white 
linen shirt ; beside him in the coffin lay his trusty 
rifle, which the deceased prized above all other things, 
and which Was to be buried with him in compliance 
with an often expressed desire. 

A clergyman read an impressive funeral service, 
that was attentively listened to by the audience, 
after which the coffin-lid hid the well-known face of 
Wild Bill from the prying gaze of the world. 

A grave had been prepared on the mountain side 
toward the east, and to that place in the bright sun- 
light, the air redolent with the perfume of sweet 
flowers, the birds sweetly singing, and all nature 
smiling, the solemn cortege wended its way and de- 
posited the mortal remains of Wild Bill. 

Upon a large stump at the head of the grave the 
following inscription was deeply cut: 

"A brave man; the victim of an assassin — J. B. Hickok (Wild 
Bill,) aged 48 years ; murdered by Jack McCall, Aug. 2, 1876." 



JACK McCALL PAYS THE PENALTY. 

After the farcical termination of the trial, and the 
burial of Wild Bill, several friends of the deceased 
met at Charley Utter's ranche and determined to 
avenge the cowardly assassination of their friend. 



%.. 



8o LIFE OF WILD BILL 

McCall, unfortunately, heard of the meeting and us 
purposes, and lost no time in getting out of the 
country. He roamed around in the far West, and 
finally settled at Yankton. In the following year a 
United States court was established in Dakotah Ter- 
ritory at Yankton, and Jack McCall was again ap- 
prehended and put upon trial. George Shingle, 
now a resident of Sturgis City, eighteen miles south 
of Deadwood, was an eye-witness of the shooting, 
but left Deadwood to escape the excitement on the 
same evening Bill was killed, and therefore did not 
appear as a witness at the original trial, but appeared 
in answer to the summons which called him to Yank- 
ton, and there told the story of the murder. The re- 
sult of this trial was the conviction of McCall, and in 
July, 1877, he expiated his cowardly crime on the 
gallows at Yankton. 



WILD BILL'S REMAINS EXHUMED AND 
FOUND TO BE PETRIFIED. 

On the third day of August, 1879, just three years 
after the tragedy, Charley Utter and Lewis Shoen- 
flcld, the particular friends of Bill during his life, 
determined to give the remains a better resting place, 
where the thorns and briars of the bleak mountains 
would not hide the spot where so brave a heart lay 
buried. Accordingly, early in the morning of that 
day they, proceeded to the grave, and, with heads 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. gl 

uncovered, out of respect for their dead friend, they 
exhumed the body and took off the coffin-Hd to take 
a last look before transferring the remains to Mount 
Moriah cemetery, at Deadwood. It was a sad sight 
to the eyes of friends. There was scarcely a per- 
ceptible change in the body, excepting a darker 
color of the face. The features were all preserved 
with remarkable naturalness. There was the shat- 
tered wound in the right cheek, made by the cruel 
bullet which took his life, but the countenance bore 
a tranquil look, as though the wearer was glad to es- 
cape a world in which there was nothing but buffet 
and anxiety to him. The lips wore a placid appear- 
ance — a smile of peace, the graceful contour of con- 
tent. 

The extraordinary weight of the body caused the 
friends to make a more careful examination, when it 
was found that the remains were in process of petri- 
faction. The hair still bore its silken lustre, but the 
flesh was so indurated as to approach the solidity of 
wood. The weight of the body at the interment 
was one hundred and sixty pounds, but at the ex- 
humation it weighed a fraction less than three hun- 
dred pounds. 

The carbine that was buried with him was in a 
perfect state of preservation. After clipping off a 
lock of hair, which is now in the possession of Wil- 
liam Learned, musical director of the Gem theater, 
at Deadwood, the coffin lid was again screwed down, 
and the remains taken to Moriah cemetery, where 

6 



82 LIFE OF WILD BILL, 

they now repose, in a lot purchased by Charley Ut- 
ter. An Italian marble tombstone was also pur- 
chased by Mr. Utter, which he had erected at the 
head of the grave in the latter part of August. The 
inscription on the stone is as follows : 

Wild Bill, (J. B. Hickok,) 

Killed by the Assassin, J>ck McCall, in Deadwood, 

August 2, 1876. 

Pard, we will meet again in the Happy Hunting Grounds^ to part 

no more. 
Good-bye. Colorado Charley. 

Here let him rest, but the bivouac of an advanc- 
ing empire will soon dispel the primeval sounds with 
which he was so familiar. The soughing of the 
primitive forest in which he lived such a stirring Hfe 
with his trusty rifle, is mingling with the hum of a 
more perfect civilization, and will soon be heard no 
more. The forest birds are drifting westward, and 
their songs, which for centuries have made musical 
the deep solitude of that vast region, will be ca- 
denced into the whirr of a different life. The rough 
sounds of a border settlement, with its dangers and 
privations, will give place to the melody of a maid- 
en's voice, and other generations, like the recurring 
ocean waves which wash out the sand marks on the 
beach, will destroy the vestiges of the early settle- 
ment, and point to Wild BAl's grave as the spot 
where sleeps a hero-pioneer — a man whose heart 
was as gentle as a child's prayer, and as brave as 
God could make it. If he had faults they were tern- 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 83 

pered with so much compassion and affection that 
we lose sight of them entirely. An appreciation of 
the services Wild Bill rendered the civilizers and pio- 
neers of the West belongs to those who come atter 
us. " No man is appreciated until he is dead." 



IDIOSYNCRACIES OF BILL— HIS BELIEF 

IN SPIRITS. 

We have now described nearly all the adventures 
in which Wild Bill was a participant, but before 
closing this very brief and unvarnished recital of his 
life, it is eminently proper to speak of him in his 
private and social relations; his peculiar beliefs; his 
feats of marksmanship, and his companion in many 
vicissitudes — the dearest of all his friends — Black 

Nell. 

As mentioned in a previous chapter. Wild Bill was 
a fatalist— at least he believed that he was predes- 
tined to be killed. In fact, it would appear from his 
oft-repeated assertion, that "he would die with his 
boots on," that he brooded over this belief and was 
frequently attacked by melancholy superinduced by 
that impression. 

The very few intimate friends Bill had were well 
acquainted with his peculiar belief in spiritualism. 
He claimed to be clairavoyant, especially when dan- 
ger threatened, and the many narrow escapes he had 



84 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

gave some evidences of the reality of his spiritual 
sight, but the manner in which he met his death 
furnishes a contra proof. 

It was only at rare intervals he could be induced 
to talk of his terrible conflicts, and even when he was 
in the most communicative mood, the particulars of 
his encounters had to be extracted by the most pa- 
tient and persistent endeavors. 

Dr. Thorne and Capt. Kingsbury, the two gentle- 
men previously referred to, enjoyed the most confi- 
dential relations with Wild Bill. Kingsbury was a 
captain in the Second United States cavalry at the 
time Bill was acting as guide for that regiment, and, 
as the two were acquainted many years before, their 
intimacy became much greater during this compan- 
ionship in the service. Dr. Thorne was Bill's physi- 
cian, and divided his purse with him many times 
when Bill was in pecuniary straits. Bill was a fre- 
quent visitor to Dr. Thome's house, and there were 
few secrets that he kept from his physician friend. 

During one of the conversations had with Dr. 
Thorne, Wild Bill asseverated that in all his fiehts 
he was surrounded by spirits, who kept him cool 
and collected while they made fools of his enemies. 
It was to their presence on trying occasions that he 
gave the credit for the nerve and fearlessness he 
displayed. 

His character, in some respects, was enigmatical. 
While rarely evading a fight, yet he was always sorry 
(or its consequences. After his great fight with the 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



85 



McCandlas gang, at Rock Creek, he sought and 
found Jim McCandlas' widow, and, finding that she 
was almost destitute, he contributed to her support 
several years and until her death. Dr. Thorne had 
removed eleven bullets from Bill's body, nearly all 
of which had been received in the Rock Creek 
fight, but while enduring the pain consequent upon 
their extraction, he had nothing but kind feelings 
towards those who shot him. He had seven bullets 
in various parts of his body at the time of his death. 

His conclusions were always logical, and his man- 
ner of conversation most convincing. He was a lis- 
tener rather than a talker, and his answers to inquiries 
were usually made in conclusive gestures. He loved 
the society of the refined, and attributed his difficul- 
ties solely to the associations he was, in a measure, 
compelled to keep. 

His love for children was almost a mania, and it is 
said that the most timid and cross infant would leave 
its mother's arms for him at first sight, and at once 
manifest its pleasure. Another peculiarity he pos- 
sessed was the serenity of his countenance during 
danger. In the midst of his most desperate fights 
there was a smile constantly playing on his lips. 
His wide range of travel had thoroughly familiar- 
ized him with almost every stretch of territory be- 
tween Hudson's Bay and Mexico, and from the Sas- 
katchewan to Texas. It was impossible to lose him, 
a» the points of the compass came to him as nacur- 
ally as to a migratory Ixrd. 



86 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



BILL'S WONDERFUL ACCURACY OF AIM. 

It may be asserted, without fear of contradiction, 
that Wild Bill was the best pistol-shot America has 
ever produced. Much of his marvelous accuracy of 
aim was, of course, acquired by years of experience, 
but he was a good shot from the monent he first 
fired a pistol. For a long period he carried two 
small derringers, both of which he used effectively 
in many sanguinary encounters. These pistols are 
now in the possession of Dr. Thorne, to whom they 
were given by Bill before leaving on his last trip to 
the Black Hills. On one occasion, while visiting the 
Doctor, Bill was in a melancholy mood. It was dur- 
ing the summer season, and the visitor and his guest 
were sitting out in the yard on a settee. The Doctor 
expressed some dissatisfaction concerning the auto- 
cratic disposition of an old rooster he had, which 
took delight in running the other chanticleers off the 
place. Bill asked the Doctor to let him shoot at the 
rooster with his derringer at thirty paces, agreeing 
to put up ^5 to cut the rooster's throat without 
breaking its neck or touching either the head or 
body. The Doctor, giving his consent, the distance 
was measured off, and the chicken chased to the 
space required. Bill raised the pistol — without tak- 
ing aim, as was his invariable custom — and fired. 
The bullet cut the rooster's throat as cleverly as it 
could have been done with a knife, and the neck 



LIFE OF WILL BILL. 



8; 



was not broken either. To give the Doctor further 
proofs of his marvelous accuracy, he shot sparrows 
from the top branches of the high trees with his small 
derringer. 

A favorite pastime with Bill was shooting at a sil- 
ver dime, fifty paces, for one dollar a shot. He 
would place the dime in a position that the sun's 
rays would concentrate on it, thus affording him a 
good sight. He could send a bullet through the 
dime nine times out of ten. Another remarkable 
fancy shot he made at thirty paces was in driving a 
cork through the neck of a bottle, and knocking the 
bottom out without breaking the neck. He could 
shoot a chicken's head off at thirty or forty paces 
nineteen times out of twenty. He was no less profi- 
cient in the use of the rifle than he was with a pis- 
te. In shooting with a rifle he took deliberate aim, 
while with a pistol he would invariably shoot before 
bringing the weapon up to a level with his eye. 

Wild Bill had but little of what he called " book 
learning," but he was, nevertheless, an edu- 
cated man. His extensive travels among such a 
variety of people gave him a thorough understand- 
ing of human nature. He had a natural mind for 
analyzing men and things. 



88 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 



BLACK NELL, THE WONDERFUL MARE. 

During the early part of the war, Wild Bill came 
into possession of a young black mare, having cap- 
tured her from a bushwhacker during Price's inva- 
sion of Missouri. The mare was as black as a coal, 
and at the proper age to enter upon the course of train- 
ing Bill put her in. She was full of fire, and the ex- 
quisite symmetry of her head, neck, limbs and body, 
showed the pure blooded stock that was in her. 
Bill devoted all his leisure time for more than a year 
teaching the mare tricks which afterwards he used to 
so much advantage. The mare at length acquired 
such a complete understanding of Bill's wishes that 
her obedience was truly marvelous. First of all, no 
one could ride or approach the mare except Bill, and 
to him she was as gentle as a mother to her child. 
He named her Black Nell, presumably suggested by 
Claude Duval's Black Bess, of whose exploits he 
was so fond of reading. 

Black Nell was usually allowed great freedom, 
because she was so prompt to answer the whistle of 
Bill; she would leave her feed and come galloping 
to the call with the most astonishing alacrity. While 
riding Nell it was onl}^ necessary for Bill to wave his 
hand to set her in a dead run or stop her instantly. 
A downward motion of his hand would cause her 
to drop as suddenly as if she had been shot dead, 
and she would lie perfectly still until the command 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. 89 

to rise was given. On one occasion, while Bill was 
being pursued by a detachment of bushwackers, in 
passing through a prairie where the grass was very 
high, his life was saved by the prompt obedience 
of Nell in dropping down and remaining so quiet 
that the pursuers passed by within fifty feet without 
discovering him. 

In 1867, while he was in Springfield, Missouri, 
he astonished a crowd of saloon-loafers by first go- 
ing into the bar-room and calling his mare to follow. 
Nell came in, following her master like a dog, with- 
out the slightest hesitation. There was an old bill- 
iard table in the saloon, too much worn for further 
service, and upon this he ordered Nell to place her- 
self. She reared up and placed her fore feet upon 
the table, but it was only after repeated effort and 
great strain that she succeeded in raising her hind 
feet to such a height. After getting upon the table, 
Bill poured out a pint of whisky into a wash-basin, 
which Nell drank with evident relish. At a wave of 
the hand she leaped from the table and out into the 
street, where Bill allowed her to exercise her free- 
dom for several hours. 

One of Nell's greatest accomplishments was leap- 
ing, and in this she certainly never had an equal. 
She had frequently leaped ditches twenty feet in 
width with apparent ease, and Bill had no hesitancy 
whatever in riding her over a six feet fence, which 
she could clear like a deer. This wonderful animal 
died in 1869, of a complication of diseases, and was 



go LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

buried near Kansas City. Bill mourned her loss as 
he would that of his parents, whom he devotedly- 
loved, and Nell's name was never mentioned to him 
afterwards that he did not burst into tears. He re- 
garded her as the dearest friend he had on earth, 
and to have her die almost in her prime was a blow 
and loss he could scarcely endure. 



CONCLUSION— DOES BILL DESERVE A 
MONUMENT? 

It h'cis been customary among every nation to per- 
petuate the daring deeds of its heroes, by rearing a 
monument commemorative of their heroism. The 
general who commands armies, and by chance wins 
great battles, is no more deserving a monumental 
tribute than the man who discovers new means for 
the more rapid advancement of knowledge, or the 
man who extends the highway of civilization. 

In opening the vast, illimitable resources of the 
great West, sturdy pioneers were as essential as 
the brain and muscle that propel the industries of 
the nation. Every new country must, of necessity, 
gather the vicious elements eliminated by the stern 
application of law, from the older communities. If 
there were no compensating influence, new coun- 
tries could never advance, but would become the 
asylum for lawlessness and vagrancy. The fairest 



LIFE OF WILD BILL. QI 

and most fertile districts might thus be withheld from 
the hand of industry and become as plague spots, 
from which would spread a disease that ultimately 
might destroy the nation. 

Wild Bill played his part in the reformation of 
pioneer society more effectively than any character 
in the annals of American history. It is true he 
killed many men, but many men are killed in every 
war, and Wild Bill waged a legitimate war against 
the desperadoes who sought to destroy the bulwarks 
of law and order. The killing of men is often as 
necessary as the extermination of destructive wild 
animals. Both law and society, and the rights of 
man, so declare, and no man can say that Wild Bill 
was anything more than the stern administrator of a 
wholesome law. Every man he killed made society 
the gainer, and while he was near, the order-loving, 
law-abiding people felt secure in their lives and 
property. 

When the war broke out he was among the first to 
enter the ranks ; not as a soldier, but as one who 
takes the heaviest burdens and bares himself to a 
thousand dangers and privations where the soldier 
meets with one. His valuable services, no less than 
his unexampled bravery, have received the highest 
meeds of praise from his commanding officers. No 
danger was too great to prevent him from doing his 
duty ; no labor was too severe to deter him a moment 
from carrying out his intentions. He had a mind to 
dissect dangerous undertakings with the precision 



92 LIFE OF WILD BILL. 

that a rhetorician would analyze a sentence, and his 
failures were as few as his successes were conspicu- 
ous. Wild Bill was essentially great in many re- 
spects and callings. He was undoubtedly the great- 
est scout and conservator of the peace that ever 
crossed the plains ; as a spy and strategist he has, 
perhaps, never had an equal. The service he has 
rendered the country at large, and the West in par- 
ticular, cannot be estimated. Abilene and Hays 
City, the people of which places he served so effec- 
tively, cannot afford to withhold their respect for the 
memory of Wild Bill, and it would be as creditable 
to the people of Kansas as it would be deserving to 
the brave heart that was stilled by the assassin's bul- 
let, to bring the remains of Wild Bill into their state 
and give it a resting place among the most illustrious 
of their dead. If ever a hero deserved a monument, 
Wild Bill is worthy a shaft that would rear ts apex 
so high as to overlook every spot of territory be- 
tween the great Missouri and the Rocky Mountains. 
Kansas was his home and first-love ; will the people 
of Kansas make the state his sepulchre ? 



"■'"•^ 




Wild Bill's Grave in Mount Moiiah Cemetery, Deadwood. 



i£ N 10 



